For What Binds Us
by MLoreley85
Summary: No one told Evelyn Amell what it would mean to be Warden-Commander; between driving out the remnants of the Blight, running into old friends, and struggling with a larger war than she realized, Evelyn will have to learn quickly.
1. Chapter 1: What Once Was

_For What Binds Us  
__Chapter One: What Once Was_

The fires that consumed the ruined Denerim below cast the sky an angry red, rippling with the heat of summer and billows of smoke. A cacophany of battle hammered the very air, leaving little room for thought. Indeed, now was the time of blind rage, and among the many bloodlusting monsters plaguing the rooftop of Fort Drakon, Alistair was loathe to break his concentration. The cries of the wounded and the fallen were thickened by the stench of darkspawn blood, but what revulsed Alistair the most was the pervasive, consuming throb of the Archdemon's presence, reverberating through him and nearly driving him to his knees in madness. Every roar called to the blood in Alistair's veins, even as it twisted him inside out.

"Cast the... nnnh..." Yards behind him, he heard the faltering order from his fellow warden. She strained to keep her voice strong, obviously sharing Alistair's struggle against that Call. "Cast the net! _NOW!_"

The mages, flanking the flailing, shrieking beast, immediately set about casting their spell. As the threads of energy flew over and around the Archdemon, interlacing and tightening until the corrupted dragon was pinned, the Warden's eyes narrowed. Her tactic had worked; the Archdemon was momentarily unable to move. But she wouldn't have much time.

A gnarled blade descended over Alistair's vision, and he brought his shield up just in time to block the attack. With a quick parry, he wrenched the sword from the Hurlock's grip, stabbing the suddenly disarmed darkspawn straight through the heart. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see the Warden charging towards her goal; the Archdemon.

"Evelyn! No!" A chill of terror overwhelmed him, and he broke his stance to bolt after her; if she killed it, if she was the one who killed the Archdemon, she would...!

Tunnel-visioned by his fear, he didn't see the arm reach in front of him, grabbing him by the elbow and yanking him from his pursuit. In his frenzied scramble to free himself, Alistair didn't recognize the dark-haired soldier that tightened his grip on him. Finally, he rounded on the former general, seeing who he was at last.

"What are you _doing_!" Alistair demanded, outraged in the face of the calm, cold gaze that normally would have buckled his resolve. "Loghain, let _go_! She's going to-"

"Let her have this." His eyes had gone to the young woman as she swept a long-abandoned sword into her clutches, not for a moment breaking her stride. "She _deserves_ this."

Hatred burned through every fiber of Alistair's being, scorching the back of his eyes and clouding his vision. The bitter bile he'd swallowed for the sake of ceasefire between them rose so violently it became a physical lurch. Unfortunately, his vicious squirming only earned him having his arms strategically twisted behind his back, using the way his joints worked to lock him in place. Thousands of furious epithets tore from him in an incomprehensible shriek of rage; once again, he was losing the single most important person in his life because of Loghain!

"_Eyaaaauuugh!_" Almost in echo to Alistair's scream, Evelyn let out a battle cry of her own as she dropped to slide underneath the Archdemon's lunge. Her blade bit into the scaly neck, and the momentum from her charge carried her through a long slice, splitting the tainted creature open. She rolled to her feet, her chest heaving, and regarded her fallen prey- dying, but not yet dead.

Seeing her raise the sword in preparation for one final strike, Alistair futilely screamed after her, "_**EVELYN! NO!**_"

Either she didn't hear him, or she didn't wish to. She plunged the sword into the Archdemon's skull, immediately awash in the light from the rupture. Transfixed by the sight, Loghain's stoic features slackened in awe. Alistair paused mid-writhe, unable to turn his gaze away even as horror turned his gut to ice. The mages' net dissipated, their concentration understandably broken at the Warden's heroism, and the long battle finally came to a standstill. The darkspawn turned towards their beloved god, called to save it even as the life drained from it.

Finally, after wrestling to pull the sword out, Evelyn freed it- and loosed an eruption that flattened everything atop of Fort Drakon. Both Loghain and Alistair sprawled from the impact, overwhelmed as much by the sudden release from the Archdemon's Calling as they were the actual explosion.

"Evelyn-!" Without waiting for his muscles to recover, standing on the barest semblance of control over his own body, Alistair rushed to the prone figure beside the now silent beast. He collapsed at her side, lifting her and despairing at her limpness.

"No! No, you can't leave me! Not now! Why!" Frantically, Alistair shook her, anguish driving him to panic. "Why did you do that? Why did you take the final blow! Why would you-" His tears fell, splashing on her face, and his voice choked. "-_sacrifice_ yourself...! Of all of us, it shouldn't have been _you_ that..."

He stopped. Her face had scrunched up mildly where his tears had fallen, and a faint groan parted her lips.

"E...Evelyn?" He asked dumbly, trembling from head to toe.

"Mummy, d'wanna...the well...so cold..."She murmured, her head turning to the side in her protest.

"Evelyn, you're..." He shivered, scared that he might have finally lost his mind. He breathed the last word in a whisper, "..._alive_?"

Approaching from behind, Loghain loomed over the pair. He murmured softly, "So the witch spoke the truth..."

Rankled by the sound of Loghain's voice, Alistair glared sharply at a man he had sworn long ago never to forgive. "What are you talking about? Truth about what?"

Tipping his head forward, Loghain remained silent, impassive. Alistair growled, and meant to do worse, when he felt Evelyn stirring in his arms. Her head lifted, and as he looked down, her bleary eyes met his in confusion.

"Alistair...?" Her face contorted, bewildered. "What are you doing here...?" She frowned. "Wait, what am _I_ doing here? If my soul was destroyed..."

"You're alive!" Alistair repeated enthusiastically, crushing her in his embrace as a string of joyous laughter burst from him. "You're not dead!"

Keeping an eye on the scattering darkspawn- directionless and broken without their god to command them- Loghain added, "And numerous other inane statements about your state of health are sure to come."

A young man in full templar regalia , amber eyes wide with barely contained panic, hurried over. "Evey! Is she- is she alright?"

Far too blown away by his relief, Alistair couldn't even register jealousy at his concern. "She's alive! Thank the Maker, she's alive!"

Evelyn leaned on Alistair, the last vestiges of her strength fading with the adrenaline leaving her system. But she smiled up at the curly-haired templar warmly. "I'm fine, Cullen. Somehow... somehow, I'm fine."

"By Andraste's Sweet Mercy...!" He sagged on his feet, and knelt beside the pair. He started to rest his hand on her shoulder, his heart in his eyes, but stopped after a glance to the man holding Evelyn. "I had feared the worst."

Evelyn nestled against Alistair even more comfortably- at least, as comfortable as one could get, pressed against armor. "But how...? Could Riordan have lied...?"

Loghain regarded her quietly a moment, his own satisfaction at her survival briefly flickering across his expression. Finally, he said, "He did not lie to you. Perhaps, however, I am guilty of lying by omission."

"What do you mean?" Alistair snarled, startling Evelyn at the sudden shift in his mood.

Unimpressed by the whelp's barking, Loghain continued, "I have much to tell you, Commander. When you are ready to hear it."

-xxx-

"...You are getting that look again."

"Huh?" Jerked from his thoughts rather abruptly by the baritone of a voice that never failed to get under his skin, Alistair slid back to reality. The rhythmic pattern of hoofbeats filtered back over his consciousness, and the golden afternoon sunlight reflected from the wheat fields warmed the deep chill that had settled in while he'd drifted through his memories. He smirked at Loghain. "Oh, the one where I want to bash your face in?"

"Is _that_ what that vacant-eyed look means?" Loghain paused in reflection, then continued, "You must want to hit me a lot."

Unable to contain her amusement, Evelyn sputtered out a chuckle at Loghain's response. She was glad that she remained a few paces ahead of the two men, and that Alistair hadn't seen her grinning at their banter until that moment.

"You find that funny, do you?" Alistair called forward, though he couldn't mask his own smile. "He just called your future husband stupid, and you're laughing? Oh! I am _wounded_, my lady!"

"He only _implied_ you were stupid, love, but forgive me for laughing." She giggled and grinned over her shoulder back at him. "This has been a long ride, and you have been quiet for the last couple of hours."

"A rare peace that perhaps I ought not have disturbed," Loghain mused in a mock grumble.

"Hours?" Alistair's eyes darted low as he frowned. The discussion had turned to the darkspawn threat still lingering in Ferelden, even though they'd defeated the Archdemon nearly sixth months ago, and Alistair had fallen back into his thoughts. That day, that agonizing moment when he'd thought he'd lost Evelyn, had been burned into his memory; and there it festered, refusing to heal properly. That he'd been dwelling in those dark thoughts for hours unsettled him.

Catching the shadow passing over Alistair's face, Evelyn slowed her horse until it plodded beside Alistair's steed. She leaned slightly towards him, speaking softly. "Is everything alright, love?"

His responding grin was forced. "I'm fine!" At her raised eyebrow, he continued, "Honest!"

She sighed softly, and turned her gaze on the road ahead. "Where we are headed, there's already an army waiting for us. Recruits we have hand-picked, and sent to Vigil's Keep to be trained, and to help us drive out the darkspawn that refuse to retreat underground. They know us only in passing, and some of them by title alone." She reached over, gently resting her hand on his shoulder. "You are my Second-in-Command. If there is something that is bothering you, it would be best to share it before we arrive. We will be very busy once we do."

He watched her a moment, drinking in the sight of her. So much had changed since the first time he met the young woman back at Ostagar; for her, it truly was a lifetime of difference. The long, tight plait she'd kept her hair in now erupted in a short burst of black curls around her face, the crisp edges tickling her neck and jaw. She'd always had a stiff posture, but now she sat proudly, her shoulders squared. Though she was still very slender, the year of traveling and battle had toned her lithe physique, filling her out beneath her armor. The long, graceful fingers had gotten calloused from handling weapons, even if they still caressed him as gently as she always had, and while her eyes had hardened, the sharp azure of her gaze always melted when it fell on him. Maker help him, even in the foulest of his moods, when she shared that smile with him- her eyes liquid and cool and serene- he felt whatever plagued him lift.

The knot of anxiety in his stomach lifted, and he sighed it out. "As always, you see right through me. Unfortunately, what's getting under my skin isn't something that can be talked out of me." He took on a wry grin. "I mean, I won't object to some special treatment from my Lady Love to try and dissolve the heart of it, _but_..."

She laughed airily, brushing the back of her fingers against his temple in quiet adoration. "Dearest, I will be happy to alleviate any stress once we are in our private quarters."

Unbeknownst to the loving couple, absorbed in their moment as they were, Loghain's eyes turned skyward in exasperation before he shook his head dismissively. Fortunately for his sensibility, the young wardens did not indulge in such open displays of affection- nor brazen discussion of their activities in their personal quarters- often.

Alistair still wasn't used to the boldness with which Evelyn addressed their intimate affairs, and it still sent a thrill through him- one that never got old. Eyebrows raised, he grinned at her affection and lightly gripped her hand against his lips. "I promise you, I'll get my head together before we even meet up with this recruit you mentioned."

"Her name is Mhairi, dearest," Evelyn reminded him playfully, taking her hand back to clutch at the reigns- she was loathe to admit her lack of experience riding horses, and played it off as her resuming her purposeful posture. "She's yet to undergo her Joining, but every report I've gotten about her has been glowing. She's even going very far out of her way to escort us to Vigil's Keep. I think the least we can do to reward such dedication is _remember her name_."

"Don't be ridiculous. You cannot expect him to remember something as trivial as her name; it might push something more vital out of his limited memory banks- like breathing." Despite the acerbic acuity of his words, Loghain fought to keep the twitching of the corner of his mouth from curling upwards.

"I suppose, Old Man, you would know far more about forgetting useful information than I would," Alistair returned quickly, smirking.

"I've forgotten more useful information in a day than you seem to have accumulated in the last twenty years."

"Ouch! Notching below my belt with that rapier wit of yours, aren't you?" Alistair rebuffed. "Oh, sorry; belts are what those of us who are _not_ fat old men wear to keep our pants up."

"A fat, old man, am I?" Keeping his attention on the road, Loghain smirked at Alistair's childish reply. "I'll keep that in mind next time you drag me into a row and I flatten you in seconds."

Breaking the 'witty repartee', Evelyn cackled at the banter between her companions, a kindly flush coming to her face as she did. For at least the moment, the stern Warden-Commander was gone. The young woman who had only so recently blossomed out of her sheltered life had finally taken her place, relaxing Evelyn's features.

"Oh, what am I going to do with you two? And here I'd thought things had finally settled for a while. I suppose the calm was the benefit of separation, then?" She passed a finger under one eye; it was dry, but it was more a gesture of regaining her composure than clearing her eyes anyway.

"You know, any trips that _don't_ involve Loghain seem to work out much better for us. We're a lot more productive, and there's much less bickering." Before Loghain's raised eyebrow could be accompanied with a reply, Alistair continued, "Which I'm just as guilty of initiating, I know, I'm just saying."

"Yes, the month that the two of you were in Highever was perhaps the most productive the Grey Wardens have been since the instatement of our new Commander," Loghain agreed. "Shame that the swell in ranks involved neither of you."

"That is most unkind, Loghain!" Evelyn scolded, pouting. "I most certainly helped with recruitment."

"You merely saddled me with the burden of initial testing and training before gallivanting off with your lover on your 'personal mission'. But yes, I will concede you had a hand in selecting the recruits." Loghain nodded. "Things would not have gone so smoothly in your absence if not for your sharp eye for talent."

"Nor yours." Evelyn beamed. "And soon, we'll be facing the fruits of your labor."

Alistair kept his own pout masked with a sidelong glance off the road, but couldn't fasten away his sour mood at the familiarity between Evelyn and Loghain. The two had bonded from mutual respect, and at least on Evelyn's end, hero worship. Oh, she denied it, insisted that her idolization of the man had ended at Ostagar, but he couldn't quite help but believe that she still retained stars in her eyes over the man his own father had befriended. What charm did that sullen stone of a man have, that so many people in Alistair's life seemed drawn to him? And why, clinging to the last hot coal of resentment he bore the man, did Alistair fear what would happen if he ever truly forgave him?

He couldn't shut out the doubt of the figure that had haunted many of his nightmares over the course of a year. His betrayal at Ostagar had killed the only man who had ever stepped in as a father for Alistair, and left a scar in his heart that festered for far too long. And though it was irrational, he still flared in anger to recall that moment atop Fort Drakon, just the minute or so he believed that Loghain had set Evelyn up to be killed by the Archdemon.

Their trip to Highever had been a different sort of business. Alistair made good on his vow to Evelyn that he would go there to honor Duncan when the Blight had ended, and Evelyn followed through on her promise to go with him. With Loghain back at Soldier's Peak running things at top efficiency, even the Warden-Commander was able to find the time and resources to dedicate a monument to the former Commander of the Grey right in his hometown.

Alistair smiled. Highever had been filled with fond memories.

"Wherever his mind has wandered off to, at least he seems to be in a pleasant mood this time," Loghain's deep rumble prodded him out of his thoughts. "Were you able to actually hit me in your fantasy, then?"

The smile crumbled into a scowl. "The fantasy doesn't end with hitting."

"Alistair!" Evelyn reprimanded, the picture of indignation. "If you must fantasize about the inappropriate things you want to do to Loghain, at least have the decency to keep it from my ears!"

Immediately, Alistair blanched, clenching the reigns. "What-No! I'm not-I wouldn't-that's _not_-But-"

Able to maintain her straight face for only a moment longer, Evelyn cracked a grin at Alistair's fluster. Seeing her grin, he turned red in embarrassment- and in surprise that Evelyn was capable of letting her mind go to the gutter so easily. A quick sideways glance at Loghain needled Alistair further; the older man wasn't even masking his smirk this time.

"Commander, I must express my concern for the future of your relationship if he's already fantasizing about other partners, much less other _men_," Loghain suggested consolingly to Evelyn.

"You two are evil," Alistair muttered grumpily. "I'm never going to talk to either of you again."

"Your father promised much the same, once," Loghain sighed in resignation. "He was lying, too."

Silence fell over the trio, as the ghost of Maric seemed to linger far longer than Loghain's mention. For Alistair, being once again compared to the Great and Wonderful King Maric only brought a disquieting tightening to his chest. For Loghain, the sting bit deeper than he would have admitted out loud; this boy carried far too much of Maric in him for comfort. He could play it off as a joke all he wanted, but the uncanny resemblance between his closest friend and the young lad stirred painful memories. While they were few and far between as of late, the hot and baleful glances Alistair shot him when he thought Loghain couldn't see reconciled poorly with the affection the general bore that likeness.

Having watched the growing awkwardness over her companions, Evelyn refrained from breaking the silence; her only connection with the ghost that haunted both men was tenuous at best. Instead, she returned her attention to the path, where a glimmer against the dirt caught her eye. "Ah, I believe we have company, gentlemen."

"Indeed we do," Loghain agreed, spotting the telltale sign of armor in the fading sunlight at a distance. "I imagine that would be our guide, then?"

"Since we're right about where they said they were sending her to meet us, I would believe so, yes." Evelyn chuckled, gently encouraging her steed forward again to take the lead.

Alistair watched his beloved resume her role as Warden-Commander, her back straightening, her smile softening politically, and the unconscious, anxious grip of her reigns to reassert her control over herself. He sighed; she was adjusting the best she could, wasn't she? And he wasn't helping much by moping about the past, either.

_Okay then_, he determined, setting his jaw sternly. He would just have to keep his hand at her back, now wouldn't he?


	2. Chapter 2: An Old Friend

_For What Binds Us  
__Chapter Two: An Old Friend_

"...Unfortunately, Jacob never _could_ get his arrows to fly straight. So, naturally, Loghain just plucked the bow from his shaking hands, and told him calmly, 'Perhaps you should try another weapon, before you impale your new Commander.' Jacob took him up on the suggestion, and his regimen of sword and shield training has suited him well," Evelyn recounted gaily to the young woman seated behind her, giggling at the memory. "Of course, the number of arrow-related injuries also immediately went down after that."

"His nerves were his undoing," Loghain commented thoughtfully. "When he is on his own, with neither of us to monitor him, his skill with the bow is fine. When he had an audience he sought to impress, however..."

Alistair feigned shock. "You mean to say he was intimidated by you?" He paused, then added suspiciously, "Wait, how can you tell how he shot when you weren't around to see it?"

Without even turning to look at Alistair properly, Loghain replied, "He would sneak out at night to practice, when he thought we were all asleep. I could hear the strikes against the practice targets we had set up, and from what I saw, he was hitting every one nearly dead-center. But if he can't reproduce his talent when he is nervous, he is no good as a bowman."

"So _that's_ why you saddled me with him." Alistair kept his grumbling to a minimum, but his disappointment was evident nonetheless. "And here I was worried you were sending me all the recruits you didn't want to deal with. No, you were just sending me the ones you were disappointed in."

"I like to keep my disappointment in one spot; _much_ easier to maintain that way."

"Hey, I do something similar!" Alistair grinned. "I keep all of my disappointment in one _person_. That way, I can just avoid _you_, and save myself the trouble!"

"Are they... always like this?" While she'd been politely enthusiastic on meeting the three Grey Wardens, the young recruit turned to Evelyn in confusion now.

"Like what, dear girl?" Glad that her passenger couldn't read the grin on her face, Evelyn gleefully chose the deliberately obtuse response.

Uncomfortable at the thought that her Commander might in fact be oblivious to the blatant animosity between her immediate subordinates, the girl shifted in the saddle. "I am uncertain as to whether such... _heated_ discussions are conducive to accord within the ranks. I mean no disrespect, of course, Ma'am," she added quickly.

"No disrespect taken, Mhairi," Evelyn chuckled, turning her head slightly to give her a sidelong look. "But believe me, if you feel that _this_ is heated, I would assure you that this is possibly the most affectionate the two have ever been with one another."

Behind her helm, the girl's eyes widened to plates. "I... hadn't realized... I'd heard from other recruits rumors of a spectacle the two participated in..."

That brought a burst of laughter out in Evelyn that tossed her head back, interrupting the two men in their debate. Mhairi's reply sparked the memory of the event that started those rumors. While Evelyn had been busier than usual, Alistair had fallen into a foul mood and taken to criticizing everything about Loghain's methods of training the recruits. Having had enough of the whelp's barking, the general had taken Alistair to task, engaging in a sparring match, challenging him to "show what he could teach better." While Alistair had held his ground fairly well, Loghain's superior tactics and skill had Alistair admitting defeat in minutes. Evidently, the conflict had left an impression.

"She's laughing at us again," Alistair stated matter-of-factly to Loghain. "I can't believe she's so mean. She used to be such a nice girl. I suspect your influence."

Momentarily surprised at the somewhat conspiratory tone in which Alistair addressed him, Loghain let it show only through a raised eyebrow. "It would seem you really _do_ plan on blaming me for everything."

"Between the rainy weather last week and the piss-poor return on your hunting trips the last couple of nights, yes, I can see blaming you for everything going wrong for a long while," Alistair quipped lightly; they'd already dealt (mostly) with Alistair's lingering resentment about the events already a year and a half in the past.

"How can you blame him for the weather?" Mhairi asked, bewildered. "He has no control over-"

"Apparently, I am the avatar of misfortune in his life," Loghain answered more bitterly than he intended. "This includes when such misfortune affects me, as well, it seems."

"You know, this is a nice change of pace," Alistair continued where Loghain left off, "It'll be nice to _not_ be the last one to get the joke, for once."

Mhairi frowned in embarrassment- she'd blundered into their social circle, and just had to show her ass, didn't she? She glanced to the Commander, expecting a mocking mirth in her gaze. Instead, she was greeted with... well, amusement, yes, but a warmth in the commander's expression that she hadn't expected. Mhairi flushed, still humiliated, but a bit more assuaged of her fears.

"Hold." Loghain's command pierced the good humor of their travels, as he stopped his horse and peered into the darkness around them. Night had long since fallen, but moonlight still dusted the landscape in faint silver.

"Do you see something, Loghain?" Immediately, the hard edge was back in Evelyn's voice. She followed the steely gaze of her elder, halting.

"No." Loghain's eyes narrowed. "And that's exactly the problem. By now, we should at least be seeing the torchlight from the keep, if not those stationed to welcome us. Instead..." He shook his head. "...Silence."

The change in Evelyn was radical, indeed. She swept off her horse in a smooth movement, her eyes on the road ahead. A deft tug and twirl freed her staff from where she had it strapped to her back, and Mhairi's eyes widened to catch the finely-crafted blade integrated in the design of the staff. Her steps were quiet, light and barely disturbing the dirt beneath them as she edged forward, joined shortly by both Loghain and Alistair. A hardened look of concentration turned Evelyn's face to stone, her eyes glittering with suspicion.

"You're right. There's something wrong. I feel the Veil thinning up ahead. A different sort of darkness..." Evelyn's breath caught, and she continued in tremulous determination, "I can sense _them_."

"As can I," Loghain agreed. Alistair nodded, immediately at Evelyn's side, his shield raised protectively around both of them. Mhairi slid down too, drawing her sword and frowning. Already, she felt out of place among these seasoned fighters.

"_Help_!" Barreling down the path, his legs failing as he fled from his pursuers, a man cried out in terror. Hot on his trail, several genlocks gibbered furiously. Spotting the travelers- the _well-armed _travelers- the man darted past them. Any barrier between himself and the darkspawn was welcome!

Evelyn's eyes narrowed, and just as the genlocks caught up to them, her bladed staff flashed in the moonlight, and a dual metallic clank met two genlock heads. Even before they could collapse at her feet, Evelyn turned the blade on one, a slick slice nearly severing one genlock from their head forever- _nearly_. Starfang, guided by Alistair's hand, struck down the other, gleaming in the swing. A third's attack was deflected by Loghain's shield, before a calculated thrust cut the genlock down.

Mhairi stared at the three combatants in shock. Not once had she needed to lift her sword. In seconds, three darkspawn had charged up and met their fate. Satisfied that the immediate threat was gone, Evelyn immediately turned to the poor man who'd fled from the keep, collapsed now on the ground in his relief.

"Are you alright?" She asked, reaching out her hand to help him back to his feet. Whatever kindness was in her voice was sharpened by her intense stare. "What has happened here? Where did the darkspawn come from?"

The man stared, eyes wide, before accepting her hand. "It's you! The Hero of Ferelden! Oh, thank the Maker you've arrived!" He gestured towards the darkened keep, where fires were slowly rising from beyond the walls. "I don't know what happened! All I saw were monsters, coming out of nowhere, and the screams and people dying, I couldn't- I ran, and...they followed...!"

Loghain approached the man, scowling. "What about the Wardens? Did you see any of the Wardens in your escape?"

The man regarded the tall general cautiously, before stammering, "N-no, I didn't- well, maybe, I think I saw... there was a mage. Might've been a Warden, I don't know."

Evelyn frowned thoughtfully. "A mage? But we didn't send any mage recruits to Vigil's keep..."

"Like I said, Ma'am, I don't know," the man replied quickly, eyes shifting to the path behind them. "I'm going to see if I can't find some help- there _must_ be a patrol nearby."

"Take my horse," Alistair offered, quickly stripping two bags from the burden his steed had born and strapping them to his own back."You'll move faster that way."

"Thank you kindly, Ser!" The man smiled, profusely grateful for the chance to escape the immediate danger. He quickly mounted the horse, riding off without further word.

"Why would there be a mage at Vigil's Keep?" Evelyn wondered, her brow furrowed in concern.

"I would be more concerned about the darkspawn being at the keep, myself," Alistair pointed out. "And speaking of which, the faster we get there, the likelier we are to find survivors."

"For once, I am in agreement with Alistair," Loghain said with some measure of surprise in his own words, "Let us make haste."

"Right!" Evelyn agreed vehemently. She took one moment to lay one hand on the forehead of her lovely gelding, the other guiding his nose to her face. She planted a kiss on the velvety soft tip, smiling warmly. "I need you to stay here for me, okay? I'll come back for you later. But if something bad comes, you hide, okay?"

The gelding snorted worriedly, nuzzling her. She gave him another quick pat, and turned back towards the keep. As she advanced, readying her staff again, a cold, starlit glimmer came to her gaze. "Come, Sers; we have some Darkspawn to be rid of."

-xxx-

Mhairi stared at the Commander and her men in awe. Upon arriving at the keep, they'd found the place to be utterly _swarmed_ with darkspawn. To Mhairi's despair, many of the recruits she'd gotten to know over the course of her stay at the keep were strewn across the grounds, broken and still. After her initial devastation to see the men and women under her charge defeated, the Commander set about systematically destroying each darkspawn she found. Her Second-in-Command and her general were only a pace behind her, and no less brutal in obliterating the invasion.

Leaving a trail of blackened blood in their wake, Evelyn's party had cleared the immediate grounds of the darkspawn threat- and what had earned Mhairi's most profound respect was the woman's determination in finding survivors. The faintest of calls for help had been answered, and she'd even taken the time to heal the men most in danger of dying. As Evelyn had traded off the medical supplies to the man who'd pleaded for them, she didn't even mention the numerous darkspawn that had stood between them and the supplies.

"Where are they coming from!" Approaching the doors that lead into the main fortress, Evelyn cast her gaze around the grounds urgently. "They weren't charging inwards, there was no army waiting outside the keep! How did they get in?" She paused, frowning. "...Even more worrisome, why didn't they _sense_ the darkspawn coming?"

Loghain's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent for the moment. Alistair shuddered; from his experience, anyway, when Loghain stopped talking about potential tactics, it meant the seasoned warrior was unnerved by something. When that happened, it meant bad things were afoot.

Without an answer from Loghain, Evelyn steeled herself again, her hands clenching around her staff. "...Right. Let's press on."

Advancing to the interior, Mhairi nearly gagged at the sight; there might have been carnage outside, but here... here, the bodies were stacked unceremoniously, kicked to the side and left to bleed out. "By the Maker, this is... awful!"

"Awful isn't the half of it," Alistair agreed. "So many of them completely unarmed... The darkspawn took them totally by surprise. There was no warning."

"We have company." Loghain glared into the dark, torchless hall, gripping his sword and shield.

The familiar singing in their veins alerted the other wardens to the presence of darkspawn, even though they were nowhere to be seen. Shrill cries of anger pierced the silence, and the wardens tensed; Shrieks. Her eyes narrowing sharply, Evelyn spun her staff, then stabbed the blade behind her in a quick thrust. With a sudden yelp of pain, a shriek shimmered into existence, impaled on Evelyn's blade, its black blood sliding along the edge. With a yank and deliberately-placed kick to the shriek's midsection, Evelyn freed her staff again, her face a mask of angry contempt.

Two more appeared, the illusion broken, and they charged at the team, claws out. Mhairi couldn't avoid a short bark of terror as she swung her sword at the oncoming shriek, grateful to feel resistance as the tip bit into the flesh of the monster. Unfortunately, she'd moved too slowly; even though she'd nicked the creature, it'd barely taken any damage, evading the blade with a deft sway. Just as her foot slid back in instinct, Mhairi was surprised when Alistair lunged forward to intervene, his shield bashing the shriek away from her. The darkspawn clattered to the floor, claws spread in a scramble to regain control over its momentum, but Mhairi refused to give it another chance at her. Taking the advantage Alistair gave her, she hacked the head off of the fallen darkspawn, even going so far as to kick it away from the monster- just in case it got any funny ideas about reattaching it and standing upright again, like in that one nightmare she had.

Alistair nodded briefly to her, and Mhairi grinned in a mix of relief and terror. The third shriek had tried to tangle with Loghain, and learned very quickly why engaging with the man was not the wisest plan. He made short work of the creature, a single swipe of his blade separating the top half of the darkspawn from the bottom. Just in case he'd miscalculated, however, Loghain slammed his shield against the shriek, which confirmed the separation as it fell to pieces- literally.

"I sense more, straight ahead," Evelyn commented, knowing well enough that the other full wardens were already aware, but wanting to keep Mhairi on the same page. She ran to the gate blocking their way forward into the keep, wrapping her fingers around the grating and shaking it lightly. Sadly, the metal didn't give even slightly. "Damn! I don't suppose one of you big, strong men can miraculously break this down, can you?"

"I'm afraid, dearest, that might be a bit beyond my ability," Alistair replied, sighing in an exaggerated measure of exasperation. "And I doubt Mr. Legendary over there can do much better."

"The whelp is correct; I see no points of weakness in this gate. We'll need another path through," Loghain confirmed.

"I do not understand, Commander," Mhairi frowned, confused. "You are a mage, are you not? Why not simply... magic it away? Or blow it down with fire?"

"I imagine that, as powerful as our Commander is, even she lacks interest in wasting what power she has in an overt display of destruction if there is another option," Loghain suggested, raising an eyebrow. Evelyn smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I see." Mhairi felt a blush growing in her embarrassment, and fought it down again. "If I recall correctly, that door over there would take us around to where we need to go." She pointed to the door in question, up the stairs and to the right of where they stood.

"See? This is why we have someone who has actually _toured_ the keep with us!" Alistair quipped as the others immediately began following Mhairi's direction. "Cuts down on our aimless wandering considerably!"

Charging up the stairs, more fleet than her heavily-armored companions, Evelyn frowned. An all-too-familiar tingle crawled over her skin. "Magic? ...And not darkspawn magic, either..."

Alistair joined her in frowning. "I'll be ready to douse it with my templar skills if need be."

Evelyn gave a faint nod over her shoulder, not breaking her stride for a second, and threw open the door, charging in. Only a few steps in, she faltered and stopped, staring wide-eyed at the sight in front of her. The others followed suit, falling into place beside their Commander. In front of them stood a robed man, his blonde hair and feathered pauldrons highlighted in a golden glow from the fire streaming from his hands. Just beyond him, two darkspawn gurgled in pain of death, the flames having already cooked them beyond the point of healing, and collapsed.

Oblivious to his new audience, the man finally dropped his spell, backing away from the blackened corpses and shaking his hands to cool them. He turned to leave the scene, and flashed a glance at the folks standing in the doorway, doing a double take to realize he was no longer alone.

He flinched and rapidly informed them, "Err, I didn't do it."

"Didn't do _what_, kill darkspawn?" Alistair replied, raising his eyebrow. "Yes, I can absolutely see why you'd want to cover _that_ up-"

"Anders?" With all pretense of confidence gone, Evelyn spoke tremulously, taking one hesitant step forward.

For a moment, the man stared blankly, trying to register who this tiny woman was and where she might know him. But she was _awfully_ familiar, he felt, and his brow wrinkled as he peered at her. Recognition flooded his features, and he replied in shock and dawning joy, "..._Lynnie_!"

Her expression blossomed in happiness, tears filling her eyes and rosiness flushing over her. "Anders!"

"Lynnie!" He exclaimed gleefully, closing the distance between them in half a second to close her in a tight embrace.

Witness to the display of affection between the love of his life and this strange man, Alistair frowned. His sword may have lowered, but he gripped the hilt. Loghain's displeasure in the momentary pause in their mission manifested in an arched eyebrow and his icy glare getting icier.

"I can't believe it- you're _alive_!" Evelyn gushed, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she pressed her cheek to his chest. "After so long, I was _certain_ that if they hadn't recaptured you, they must've..."

"Oh, _you're_ one to talk!" Anders proclaimed incredulously, grinning all the while. "I heard about what happened to the tower, with Uldred finally losing his last straw of sanity and whatnot. I'd thought you'd been caught up in that!"

"No, I-"

"Eh, sorry to interrupt this touching reunion, Evelyn," Alistair rather purposefully interrupted, indeed, "But weren't we kind of in the middle of, you know, purging this place of darkspawn and searching for survivors?"

Startled, Evelyn released her old friend, the memories of the past clashing horribly with the realization of the situation they were in. "Oh! Yes- yes, we were!" She looked to Anders apologetically. "We have _much_ to catch up on, but definitely not now."

Confused at the jarring disconnect, Anders twisted his mouth uncertainly. "Right, the darkspawn. I can see where that might be a more immediate concern." He turned partially back to face the darkspawn- and the two fallen soldiers just past them. "Hey! Seeing as I'm no longer locked up in that dingy cell, what say you to my joining you in your heroic escapades?"

Evelyn followed his gaze, and swallowed a gasp. "Those men... they're _templars_...?"

Catching her implication, Anders faced her with a sharp look, though it quickly softened in good humor. "Like I said, I didn't do it- those darkspawn got to them first. I mean, I can't say that I'm all that broken up over their death- Biff there made the funniest gurgle when he went down. But I promise you, despite the rumors, I've yet to be involved in any templar-slaying."

"_Templar_-slaying?" Alistair balked.

The hardened edge Evelyn had cultivated over the last year fell back over her cheer, and she purposefully met Anders' gaze. "Have you kept up with your healing?"

"Among other things, but yes," he answered with a shrug.

"Then come with us. If we find survivors, _you_ make sure they can make it out without an injury slowing them down. That way, I can focus on fighting," she ordered, stalking past him and the corpses lining what Evelyn slowly realized had been a jailing area.

Anders stared after her, surprised. Slowly, a much more sincere smile spread over his features, and he followed after her. "I can do that!"

Alistair scurried to move back to Evelyn's side, blocking Anders from taking what was rightfully _his_ spot- who was this mage-guy, anyway, to get Evelyn to lose focus like that? The questions would have to come later, but he certainly wasn't going to give the mage much chance to display his fondness for Evelyn anytime soon, no ser.

Sighing out his own exasperation, Loghain followed suit. Fantastic; just when he thought one emotional drama was concluded, another was springing up in front of him. He blamed everything on the fact that he was spending too much time with these kids- and now they were multiplying.


	3. Chapter 3: Sweetheart

_For What Binds Us  
__Chapter Three: Sweetheart_

The rat-piss village only a few miles out from the main city of Highever barely had enough people to count as having a "population." Not only did everyone already know each other, but Anders suspected they were woefully inbred. He wouldn't be surprised; this wasn't an area that got a lot of traffic, even for being associated with the teyrnir, so fresh blood was rarely introduced. He imagined that whatever moron decided to settle the village here had simply given up trying to traverse the mountain range, dropped his pack, and refused to move forward. If the residents were any indication, that one man's stubbornness spread to any who fell into the trap of believing this mucky, frozen, barren mush of land was a village, and a grand collective delusion had become a makeshift reality.

Fortunately for him, even small rat-piss villages are not above the need for ale, and a tavern had been among the handful of establishments. As he nursed his mug, grateful for the slight buzz that had already numbed him to the droning of the bartender prattling about the day-to-day affairs of his little town, he grinned wryly. If he had to wait out hearing from his contact in some obscure little mudhole, at least he had decent ale to pass the time.

The bartender grumbled, "So then Little Booger says-"

"I'm sorry, 'Little Booger'?" Anders interrupted, looking to the man dubiously. "Either someone has been given a very unfortunate nickname, or was born to such unfortunate parentage as to be named like that. Either way, I cannot believe you just said that with a straight face." His face fell. "...Andraste's girdle, I hope that doesn't mean there's a 'Big Booger' counterpart."

The bartender stammered a reply that, due to lack of interest, Anders let turn into a muffled drone in the back of his mind. Instead, he focused on his mug, irritated that he'd engaged for even a second with the moron; he should've just ignored him, no matter _how_ badly his stupidity pierced his brain.

His mouth sliding to one side thoughtfully, Anders stared into the mug in front of him, his mind drifting elsewhere. All he had to do was get the 'All Clear' message from his contact, and he could move on. Some templars had finally caught a whiff of him up in the northern part of the country, and he'd been forced from frolicking in plentiful populations to burying himself in this pit. He scowled; he could have easily laid a trap for them, leading them into a river and frying them with lightning, but had abstained- all because the pretty girl who'd been letting him share her bed had looked at him with those big blue eyes of hers and urged him to run instead.

He took another pull from his mug, swallowing hard. He just _had_ to find another girl that reminded him of _her_, didn't he? Dark brown hair, this time, straight and worn short, but it had been the eyes that really drew his attention. Even though he'd been gone from the tower for three years now, even though he'd left on considerably bad terms with _her_, he still couldn't stop looking for her image in the crowd.

Another gulp, this time definitely trying to drown out his uncomfortable thoughts, and he felt the buzz getting thicker. Maybe it wasn't wise to dull his senses as an apostate on the run, but the isolation of this village made him more aware of his loneliness. And naturally, his loneliness invited thoughts of someone who'd been a balm to such a feeling.

"Oi, Anders!" A punch to his shoulder sputtered him from the workings of his mind again, and making sure he hadn't sloshed himself with ale, he glared at the man responsible. A tall man, average build, wrapped in furs from his winter travel, loomed behind him.

"Why is it that I always associate pain with your presence, Hagan?" Anders asked smartly, wiggling his shoulder to disperse the growing ache from the punch.

"Pro'lly coz I ain't so gentle with ya," the man replied, grinning. He yanked Anders to his feet and gave him a light shake. "Yer gon' wanna clear your head, 'cuz I have some news for yeh. _Big_ news."

Anders recoiled from the rough handling, grumbling. "Even at my most drunk, I'm sharper than you are at your most sober. But," he added with a faint grin, "some fresh air isn't a bad idea."

Leaving his largely empty mug with only the slightest of pouts, Anders followed Hagan out of the tavern. The bitter cold of the coming winter bit straight through the pleasant warmth of the ale in him, and Anders shivered out of his buzz. They moved away from the entrance, and Hagan waited while Anders collected himself again.

"So! What's the big news you claim to have brought me? Have the templars finally given up?" Anders asked casually, resting one shoulder on the side of the building.

"Well, yes an' no, little guy," Hagan replied, glancing around them quickly for any who might overhear. "The fact is, their search for you was definitely called off. Thing is, it ain' coz' they got bored or tired or somethin'. They got word to go back to that Kinloch Hold place."

"What?" Anders frowned. "Why?"

"Best I could make out, there was a big battle goin' on in the south, big enough that they called in mages from th'tower to back up the normal people," Hagan ignored the faint twinge under Anders' eye. "Unfortunately, things went sour real fast, an' when those mages wen' back to that place, they threw a hissy fit that turned into some kinda rebellion."

"Rebellion...?" At this, Anders' eyes flew wide open, and the veneer of drunkenness burned away. "Oh, that can't be good!"

"Nawp." Hagan cast another glance around, unnerved by what he had to say next. "Thing is, it went _real_ bad after that. Best I could make out, the mages ended up summonin' demons and the place is all overrun. Naturally, the Knigh'-Commander called for an Annulment, an' word already reached Denerim's Chantry. That's when they called off those templars chasin' _you_ down, because they already had enough shit on their plate."

No longer able to keep his posture casual, Anders straightened away from his lean against the building. "Overrun with demons? Rebellion?" The last word, he could barely get out, and his voice cracked even as it softened, "..._Annulment_?"

"That's just wha' I 'eard, little guy. It means you're free to leave this place, though, if'n you wanted. And I kinda figured you didn't want to go back to that tower anyway, what with you bein'-"

"_Oh, shut up!_" Anders snapped, putting his hand over one side of his head, fingers burrowing into his hair. After breathing heavily for a moment, he took in a deep breath and dropped his hand again, regarding Hagan with such iciness that not even his furs could warm him. "You've done what I asked of you. Thank you."

"Yeh, 'bout that... you only gave me part of what you owed me..." Hagan ventured cautiously, but with more than an edge of irritation.

Anders dug into his shirt, pulling out a small but heavy pouch. He tossed it at the mercenary, his eyes sharp enough to cut with a glance. "There is the rest. Now _get out of my sight_."

Hagan didn't need any further instruction; catching the pouch, he turned and hurried, eager to get out of the town- and away from the apostate, who'd suddenly gone from 'little guy' to 'Holy Maker He Wants To Kill Me' in his mind.

With Hagan gone, Anders crumbled against the building. His legs simply refused to hold him upright anymore. The tower? _Annulled_? Such a thought was unfathomable. Sure, he often wished that the place would've burned to the ground for nearly his entire stay, and he knew that there was definitely more blood magic being practiced in those halls than any of the higher-ups were aware. He knew that there was greater discontent than any of those damned templars wanted to acknowledge, and that the inevitable conclusion would be something like this...

His palms pressed to his face. He didn't want _this_. The familiar faces, the familiar embraces, everything he'd disdained and mocked and loved about that tower... gone? Even worse, oh, the worst stab of all- he'd left Lynnie to that mess. He'd left his only true friend in that tower, the one he'd have happily given up everything for, the one he'd delayed his escape for, the one whose kiss still burned his lips in memory-

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his knees, curling up. The tears hadn't started flowing yet, he refused to let them, but he couldn't breathe right anymore. Everything came in short gasps, stopped by an oppressive welling of pain. Maker take the rest of Kinloch Hold, but not _her_.

"Lynnie," he muttered brokenly, and the invocation of her name was enough to finally trigger a sob. Just one; what little he allowed himself before clenching his fists and pulling back inside of the mask again. He stood, staring off into the mountains that surrounded the village.

To the South.

-xxx-

Evelyn wheeled on her old friend, pausing her skillful staff-spinning. "Anders, shock it now! Alistair-"

"Way ahead of you." Alistair waited until Anders had discharged the electrical energy into the shriek in front of him before charging forward, using the momentary paralysis of the creature to his advantage and piercing it straight through. As a hurlock scrambled over to try and impale Alistair in turn, he twisted quickly and used the momentum to hurl the dying shriek into the approaching hurlock, knocking it off-balance and clearing his blade for further use.

Picking up where Alistair left off, Loghain cleaved both creatures in a mighty strike, ensuring that they wouldn't be getting back up to fight. Mhairi kept on her toes, dealing with each darkspawn that came her way, but felt distinctly out of place among the tightly-knit trio, whose efficiency at killing darkspawn made her head spin.

"Watch it!" Mhairi turned at the last second, only to see a genlock arrow headed straight for her face. Anders, who'd caught her lack of focus, sent a bolt of spirit energy to displace the arrow before it could connect. Without hesitation, he faced the genlock, and loosed lightning on the creature, using the arrow tip being trained on him as the grounding point.

"That's what you get for messing with a mage!" Anders crowed triumphantly, grinning to Mhairi. "Are you alright? No damage?"

"No damage," Mhairi echoed with a nod, hesitantly. There was no escaping her unease about the apostate, no matter his connection to the commander. Nevermind that mages were responsible for the Blights and the darkspawn in the first place, but this wasn't even a proper Circle mage; this was an _apostate_. And everyone knew that apostates had a propensity for _blood magic_.

Regardless of her intent, he seemed to catch the hint that she was uncomfortable with him, and returned to battle- but she shivered at the momentary shard of ice that had entered his gaze at his realization.

Mhairi already felt ridiculous enough for having completely forgotten that the controls to operate the gate had been just across the room from where she'd directed the team, though running back to try and access them, she'd run into a block behind the door. She was able to route them around to the gate controls, and finally, they'd been able to proceed further into the keep- though not before being stunned by a tremendous explosion that had consumed the darkspawn that immediately bolted into the chamber; an explosion triggered by a slightly dodgy dwarf.

"Mhairi! _Focus!_" With a loud _clang_, Evelyn deflected the sword aimed for her throat with her staff, then jammed the blade behind her straight into the hurlock threatening at her back. Mhairi jolted back to her thoughts, but not soon enough. An arrow caught her in the arm with a sickening _thunk_, jarring and piercing the bone.

"_Annh!_" Mhairi shouted, though to her credit, she didn't drop her stance to grasp her arm. Instead, she brought her shield up between her and the genlock who fired on her, and ran to meet her opponent- shield-first. A few more arrows landed in her shield, one even plowing partway through, but she kept pace until _slamming_ straight into the genlock. Just as it was set off balance, its bow broken from the impact, she pulled back just enough to make use of her blade, making three quick strikes in succession; across its chest, its neck, and finally a thrust through its heart.

While Mhairi valiantly fought off the creature who wounded her, Evelyn found herself surrounded by four more darkspawn; two shrieks and accompanying hurlocks. Unfortunately, they'd cropped up at too close a range for her to use her staff.

Anders caught sight of the danger she was in, and dropped all guard. "Lynn-!"

She smirked. Just as they fell within one foot of her, her armor, her hair, her very _flesh_ glowed and turned translucent. The first shriek to try and dig its claws into her yanked away in agony, the offending claws sizzling. The others ran full on into her magical shield, and howled in pain. As she dropped her arms, her staff held before her in the energy swirling around her; the shield expanded and hurled the creatures away from her. As it grew, it consumed the rest of the room; her party remained largely unaffected, aside from an unsettling tingle that vaguely reminded them of the Fade, though Alistair's awareness was distinctly more uncomfortable. The darkspawn found themselves pressed against the walls, limbs sprawling, until Evelyn released the energy and let them fall.

Anders stared at his old friend, his jaw slackened. When had she been able to do something like _that_? She'd always been _good_ with magic, but he'd never even heard of such a shield; it was like she'd drifted partway into the Fade, and drew it back out with her. The spell of awe was broken when her hand casually wrapped around her staff again. Back to his senses, he set about frying two of the remaining darkspawn with a jet of flame; though his mind was definitely elsewhere.

Panning a glance around the room, watching Mhairi repeatedly stab an already fallen foe and Alistair pull his glowing sword from a felled genlock, Loghain nodded to Evelyn. "I believe this room has been cleared."

She returned the nod, and looked to Anders sharply. "Anders, tend to Mhairi. Alistair, check ahead in the hallway for more darkspawn, but _do not engage_ unless necessary. Retreat back to this chamber if you see anything; we'll have the advantage here. Loghain, help me check the bodies."

As he moved to Mhairi's side, breaking off the end of the arrow, Anders looked curiously to Evelyn. "Why do you want to _check_ those disgusting things?"

Evelyn set about turning one over with her staff. "Because _something_ is giving these darkspawn orders, and it isn't an archdemon. I want to see if we can find any evidence of what _is_."

Alistair pouted. "Why are you sending me, and not Loghain?"

"Because you're faster than he is," Evelyn pointed out as she kneeled, smiling to Alistair. "And he has a sharper eye for detail than you do." Her voice turned sickeningly sweet. "And don't question my orders, Sweetheart."

As Alistair's pout deepened, and he begrudgingly headed into the hallway to scout, Anders went rigid. With his concentration definitely broken, the healing spell he'd been working on Mhairi's arm disrupted and she grunted in displeasure.

"What do you mean, 'Sweetheart'?" Anders asked of Evelyn incredulously, his eyebrows knit together demandingly. "Since when have you ever referred to someone as _sweetheart_? Did you learn how to be condescending while studying to be some big-shot hero?"

"This 'Big-Shot-Hero' has more than earned the right to be condescending to that barking pup, especially with him questioning orders. Her patience with him astounds me," Loghain responded for her, kicking one darkspawn onto its back for inspection.

Evelyn bore Anders a perplexed look, trying to pick apart the meaning of his question. Suddenly, it dawned on her; her old friend hadn't been given the updated dossier on her relationship status. She smirked and stood straight, crossing her arms. "I'm not one to call someone 'sweetheart' just to condescend to them, Anders. This certainly sheds new light on all the times you've referred to _me_ as such, though."

Anders balked. "Hey now, I wasn't condescending to _you_! You know damn well I meant it with affection!"

Holding out her hand in a gesture of 'Weeeell?', Evelyn raised both eyebrows and waited for Anders to catch up with the rest of the class. His eyes widened in surprise as he finally registered what she was implying, and stalked over to her- Mhairi completely forgotten.

"You can't possibly mean-" He turned to implore of Loghain, "She doesn't mean what I think she does, does she?" He frowned back at Evelyn. "You're not saying-"

"A lot has changed since you left Kinloch Hold, Anders," Evelyn replied quietly, resuming her inspection of the darkspawn at her feet. "But to answer the question you're avoiding asking, yes, I'm involved with Alistair." She smiled warmly to herself.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation, holding out one hand as though to slow her from going too fast for him to keep up. "So, wait, whatever happened to Ser Prig, the Knight of your Dreams? I didn't realize that so long as men were big, burly, and dense as lead, they were interchangeable for you!"

At this, the room turned cold. Loghain's immediate growl at the offense to his Commander and Mhairi's shocked gasp were dampened by Evelyn's mounting anger. Before Anders could react, Evelyn darted up and grabbed him by the collar, dislodging his footing and tearing him down to her level. She snarled, "Don't you dare mock either Cullen or Alistair. Given what you've done to me, given that you _abandoned_ me when I needed you, you have no right to speculate on my relationships with other people."

"I didn't abandon-"

She wrenched him in another tug, shaking him from his protest, and for the first time in his life, Anders feared the fiery blaze in her eyes. "I loved Cullen with all that I am. And Alistair has brought me the greatest joy of my life. If you _dare_ speak ill of either of them, I'll turn you to the templars myself. _Do you understand_?"

Ice ran through his veins as he stared into the face of fury, a raw rage that he hadn't known Evelyn could possibly call up at all, much less so quickly. She'd always been so sweet, so demure... He knew she had a fierce streak in her, but this ferocity had a killing edge to it. And for her to threaten him with turning him over to the templars, knowing what the templars did to him, what they did to _her_, and what they _would_ do with him if they ever caught him again... his eyes narrowed.

"I understand, _Evey_," he spat. The next thing he was aware of, his back had hit the wall, a force of energy discharged from the hands that had clutched him now pinning him there. She advanced, her eyes dark and blank.

Loghain grabbed her arm, breaking her concentration, his own icy gaze holding hers when she snapped her attention to him. "Commander, do not let him have the satisfaction of getting under your skin. We have more pressing matters to handle, first."

Her conflicting emotions wrestling for control over her features, she finally assented to Loghain with a nod and turned her back on Anders as he fell to the floor.

Anders watched her go, an all-too-familiar painful clench in his chest writhing him back to his feet. "...Lynnie, I-"

A metal-gloved fist arced through the air, catching Anders square on the nose. The blow knocked him backwards again, and he clutched at his face. When he looked back to the source, he felt his blood boil to see Alistair having returned from his scouting.

Despite his regret over what he'd said to Evelyn, his aching nose took precedence."You _bastard_, what do you think you are doing! I think you broke my nose!" He shouted at Alistair, pulling his hand away and spotting blood.

Alistair loomed over him, his amber eyes flickering with their own smoldering flame. After a moment where Anders feared Alistair might strike again, he instead turned back towards Evelyn, though not without growling over his shoulder, "...Then _heal it_."

Evelyn hesitated, before steeling herself once again, and approaching Mhairi. Wordlessly, she resumed the task that Anders had forsaken, closing the injury on her arm. Mhairi almost sighed in relief, but decided better of it with the Commander's foul mood written across her face. Anders, spiteful of being ordered to but not willing to endure it being broken, applied healing magic to his nose, wincing as he lightly adjusted it back into place with a _click_.

Loghain turned to Alistair, eyebrow arched. "It is generally considered poor form to punch a man in anger like that, especially an ally."

Alistair bristled. "You heard what he said. Of all the things for him to-"

"I am not complaining." Loghain smirked, resuming his orders to check the darkspawn.

Alistair blinked, then grinned half-heartedly. "O-oh. Right. Well."

Lightly resting her hand on Alistair's arm, Evelyn caught his attention gently. Somberly, she asked, "What did you see?"

He sighed. "The hallway is clear, but I'm sensing a large cluster of darkspawn ahead, and I heard them fighting someone. As per your orders, I came straight back, but if we don't move soon, we may be down one survivor."

Evelyn nodded thoughtfully, then pressed her forehead to his chest, sighing. Needing no further encouragement, Alistair put his arms around her, drawing her closer, knowing exactly what little comfort she needed to draw from him and happy to supply it.

Watching Evelyn in the arms of yet another man, alive and well and happy, her eyes closed in contentment, Anders frowned in displeasure. His heart hurt at what he'd provoked in Lynnie just then, and he tried to swallow his guilt, push it to the back of his mind with everything else that bothered him.

He wasn't going to forget that punch anytime soon, though.


	4. Chapter 4: Just What We Need

For What Binds Us  
_Chapter Four: Just What We Need_

The hallway was filled with the clanging of metal, weapons meeting armor, and the wounded cries of many darkspawn amidst the shouts from one man. As Evelyn approached the door, she slowed down, and gestured to the others to match her pace. She directed Loghain to the left of the door, and Alistair to his side. She nodded Mhairi to stay by _her_ side, then looked back to Anders, who'd taken on a rather sullen sulk.

Evelyn suspected that if she'd been punched in the face the way he had, she would be sulking a bit too; but this wasn't the time and place, and his insinuation of infidelity still stung in a very sore place for her. Her sympathy only extended so far. She held up one hand, then indicated her eyes with two fingers before pointing to herself. _Stay back, watch me for instructions_. He nodded.

Evelyn rested her hand on the door, closing her eyes as her mind's eye expanded into the next room. With only faint impressions of energy traces, largely from the connection she shared with the darkspawn in her tainted blood, she couldn't quite make out every detail or movement. Still, as she focused, she sensed her opportunity of entry; several had been driven back by a wild swing from the man fighting them.

Taking two steps back and a deep breath, Evelyn tapped deep into her mana and felt her magic surge forth in response. Her eyes opening at last, she loosed a blast of flames from her very core with a sharp kick to the door- a blast that knocked the door clear off its hinges and flooded the next room with swirling, sweeping flames. The door, unrestrained, flew into the cluster of darkspawn that had been preparing another charge towards their opponent, crushing many on impact, and setting fire to those not fortunate enough to die immediately.

Mhairi leaned towards Loghain, asking, "What was that you were saying about her not wanting big displays of her magic?"

"If there is one thing I've learned about the Commander, she exercises her prerogative as a woman to change her mind as needed," Loghain replied dryly before advancing into the room behind Evelyn- who'd already darted in to join the battle.

"Besides, didn't you _see_ what she did?" Alistair gushed excitedly. "She took out a whole group with one attack!" He beamed proudly as he joined his fellow wardens. Mhairi raised an eyebrow, wondering if the Commander's second wasn't as much her personal fan as he was her apparent lover.

Anders stood, wide-eyed, stunned at what he'd just witnessed. When had little, naive, fragile Lynnie learned to do anything so... so _bold_, so brash, so powerful, so... He swallowed. Now was _definitely_ not the time to let those old feelings get stirred up anew.

"You sod-licking buncha nug-humpers, I'll kill every las' one-a ya!" At the familiar drunken, slurred, deep voice, the wardens froze in place, staring at the red-haired dwarf ballsy enough to take on a room swarming with darkspawn on his own.

"Maker's Unholy Hangover, no..."Alistair breathed at the sight of the dwarf, even as Evelyn lit in joy.

"Oghren!" She cried, bolting to his side and freezing a shriek aiming its claws for his back. "I can't believe it!"

"Well! Look who it is!" Glancing her way, the dwarf made another sweep of his axe, gutting a hurlock with a _thunk_. "Glad to see ya, Pipsqueak!"

"_Pipsqueak_?" Mhairi gagged out in shock in between thwarting another attempt to stab her through with a parrying glance of her shield. She glared at the loud-mouthed dwarf. "What right do _you_ have to call the Commander '_Pipsqueak_'! You drunken, freeloading-"

Evelyn cracked two darkspawn over the head with her staff, and smirked at Mhairi. "He's called me that ever since we met in Orzammar."

"You _know_ hi-" Mhairi turned bright pink in embarrassment; how many people did the Commander know, and why did they all have to be miscreants and troublemakers!

"Heh heh heh!" Oghren cackled, making another wide sweep that spread the darkspawn in an arc. The moment his axe was clear of her range, Evelyn swept her arm in an opposing arc, sending a spray of ice spikes up from the floor, impaling the disoriented darkspawn instantly.

"We are joined, then, by a smart-mouthed mage _and_ a drunken lout," Loghain remarked. "Well, _another_ smart-mouthed mage."

Evelyn's staff broke through a genlock's bow on its way to stabbing through the monster's heart. "I wonder where I picked up being a smart arse from, _Loghain_!"

"Wasn't _me_," Alistair insisted, grinning.

"Not my fault, either," Anders agreed, having felled another darkspawn with a crack of lightning from his fingers. "We only just met!"

"Can't be _me_," Loghain smirked.

"Must be the new girl's fault!" Alistair jerked his thumb at Mhairi, who squawked at the accusation.

"Stop teasing the girl," Evelyn ordered lightly, though she was grinning herself.

"Yes, Ma'am," Alistair saluted her.

"Of course, Commander," Loghain echoed, giving his own mock salute.

"I don't have to take orders from you now, do I?" Anders asked, pouting.

After another round of lightning from Anders, and some quick takedowns of the remaining darkspawn, the room was finally cleared of enemies. Evelyn surveyed the room briefly, before finally turning to her dwarven friend... and wrapping him in a hug.

"What in all of Thedas are you doing _here_, Oghren? I thought you were settling down with Felsi!" She gushed warmly, even as the others withdrew in shock that she would _willingly_ put herself so close to the source of such a stench.

Oghren shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to such affection- even after having traveled with Evelyn before. "Things change, Pipsqueak. Plans change. Settlin' down ain't in the works for a rugged warrior like me; I need _action_, I need _blood_ on my axe again. That's why I'm here- I'm joinin' up with you Wardens!"

Evelyn regarded him in surprise, pulling back a bit and taking in the sight of him fully. His hair had seen a comb since they'd last met, but was rapidly regaining the disarray he'd earned from years of neglect before. He was sporting the armor from the Legion of the Dead, having been granted it in honor of his service to Orzammar and to the Legion during the battle of Denerim, and his shiny new axe was already marked from combat. But his eyes had gotten harder, glassier. He was still the same dwarf... and he wasn't.

"That is true. He was here before the attack, claiming that he knew the Hero of Ferelden and that he planned on joining with us," Mhairi confirmed, frowning. "The Seneschal didn't kick him out, in case he was telling the truth- and rightly so, it seems- but we weren't quite sure what else to do with him."

"Oghren... why would you want to join the Grey Wardens?" Evelyn asked him carefully. "There is tremendous responsibility involved. You have a duty to rid Thedas of Darkspawn-"

"A duty to kill things? Pipsqueak, you don't gotta say more'n that!" He grinned hugely. "That's why I'm here! Give me a chance an' I'll have your darkspawn problem gone in a week!"

"Translation: He'll be drunk and _naked_ in a week," Alistair smirked.

"Bah! I don't need a week for that!" Oghren scoffed. "I was plannin' on doin' that _tonight_!"

"Thank you for _that_ image." Loghain actually winced; the mental picture was, indeed, causing him pain.

Evelyn put both her hands on Oghren's shoulders, meeting his gaze purposefully. "If you want to join the Grey Wardens, I'm not going to stop you. Given this whole incident... we're going to need new recruits soon, anyway. I just want you to be aware that it likely is not what you think it is."

"You got to be the hero, save the day, _an'_ you got someone like me off their arse long enough to do some good," Oghren replied sincerely. "You set a good standard, Commander, an' I wanna live up to it."

Evelyn smiled, though a hint of sorrow turned her smile crooked. She nodded and released him, looking back to the others; particularly Anders. "Since Mhairi has evidently already met Oghren, and I know that both Alistair and Loghain have, I suppose I owe you an introduction."

"Why bother? A dwarf that smells like a brewery; what's to introduce about that? I already know all I need to know about _him_!" Anders grinned wryly.

"And I know everythin' I need to know about Sparklefingers over there, too," Oghren grumbled. "Got 'imself arrested even before he _got_ here and spent more time in a jail cell than I ever did in Tapsters. An' tha's _sayin'_ somethin'!"

Anders' grin flipped direction quickly at that. "I can see how _you're_ fit to judge other people, given that you were neither good enough to be recruited, nor bad enough to be kicked out; you were tolerated until someone more important could come along and decide what to do with you."

"An' you were only left alive because the Sene-whatever didn't want an incident with the mage-tower-place so soon after Pipsqueak got 'em freed." Oghren sneered. "So I guess we're both equally qualified to judge one another!"

"This is not the time for shameful bickering, _either_ of you," Evelyn interrupted, seeing the flares of anger in both of her friends. "We still have to clear the rest of the keep. Oghren, would you mind helping us out with that?"

"You gotta ask!" Oghren crowed, raising his axe. "Let's paint the walls with blood!"

"..._Ew._" Both Mhairi and Alistair cringed at the suggestion at the same time.

Evelyn gave an awkward grin, "Uh, perhaps we oughtn't do _that_, given that we still have to clean things up around here afterwards... but I agree with the sentiment." She adopted a challenging glint in her eye. "Let's make them pay for trying to take my keep!"

"Thatta girl!" Oghren cheered, and she giggled at his enthusiasm.

As the others checked for any other damage- Loghain had taken a blow to the temple that Anders was reluctantly closing the gash on, and Alistair had to rotate his shield-arm's shoulder to free the tension- Evelyn looked to Anders, all mirth falling away from her face. He didn't seem to be getting along with _anyone_, and he definitely had no qualms about provoking _her_, either. Something had changed in her amiable, sociable friend, who'd once been the brightest spot of sun in her life.

Just as her sorrow over the seeming change in her old friend pulled her features down, Anders glanced her way and met her gaze. Recognition of her returning his attention flickered in his eyes, and he quickly looked back at Loghain, wincing.

Evelyn sighed, putting her hand over her face. _Later_, she reminded herself. _Have to deal with that later_.

-xxx-

With the door leading to the top of the fortifications clear, Evelyn directed Loghain and Alistair to step out first, as quietly as possible. Spotting no immediate sign of danger, they signaled the others to move out from the staircase. While they had the element of surprise, none of Evelyn's party was keen on alerting any darkspawn to their presence- hence relying on signals for the moment.

Evelyn edged out, but kept to the wall, peering out across the fortifications to where she sensed darkspawn just around the bend. The darkened sky overhead let no light through the thick storm clouds, the rain starting to come in a downpour. Occasionally, a brilliant flash of light streaked across the sky, silent but ominous. Even without the rain, though, Evelyn felt unsettled. Without moving her gaze, she gestured for the warriors to advance, with her directly on their heels.

Just as they came to the corner, however, they froze- there were darkspawn, but pinned by their weapons and held hostage were some of the men captured in the invasion. As they watched, a young guard was backed slowly towards the edge of the fortifications by a strange darkspawn.

"It has ended, just as he foretold!" This time, the electricity shot through Evelyn's spine. The darkspawn... had _spoken_. A clear sentence. True, it was slow, and purposeful, and clearly difficult for the creature... but...

The darkspawn kicked the guard off the fortifications, jolting Evelyn back to herself. As the rage that one of the men meant to be under her protection had been killed mounted, she heard Loghain biting back a growl. She suspected a similar hatred for this 'talking darkspawn' that the ill-fated Rowland had mentioned.

The darkspawn rounded on the other hostage. "Be taking this one, gently. We are wishing no more death than is necessary."

"Necessary!" Despite the tainted blade pressed to his neck, the hostage spat his defiance at the talking darkspawn, his hatred evident in his face even at a distance. "As if your kind has ever done anything else!"

"You are thinking you know of our kind, human?" The darkspawn couldn't keep the edge of amusement from his tone, even as a touch of curiosity underscored it. "It is understandable. But that will soon be changed."

The man met the monster's gaze with no fear, and insisted, "Others will come, creature! They will _stop_ you!"

The man's defiance had already swept Evelyn into action, hurrying forward without even a word to her companions. She knew that letting her anger get the better of her was bad, but all she could see were the piles of bodies lining the hallways, the dead guards, the mutilated bodies, the survivors crouched in closets, pleading for their lives, the stench of darkspawn blood and terror's urine and scorched bodies, and the man, his shining armor amidst the shadowed darkspawn, still defiant in the face of his own death.

"Unhand him!" She commanded, already drawing her staff and adopting her battle stance, still advancing on the darkspawn.

"It seems your words be true, more than you are guessing," the darkspawn remarked to the hostage, turning to face Evelyn as the others came behind her.

"It _is_ talking!" Anders pointed out in amazement.

"Well, let's shut it up already!" Oghren replied, clenching his fists around his axe. Evelyn still wasn't stopping; her eyes were sharpening to razor intensity. Loghain and Alistair exchanged a look, and Loghain nodded. Alistair moved up to stand at her side, catching her arm; as much as he shared her hot anger, he couldn't let her charge blindly into danger.

The hostage looked to his would-be rescuers, and immediately recognized the short woman who'd appointed him to the Keep personally. Despite his strength when addressing the darkspawn, his relief at seeing her hollowed out the core of his voice. He half-whimpered, "Commander...!"

"Capture the Grey Wardens," the darkspawn ordered the others, smirking with the twisted, cruel grin that all darkspawn seemed to bear. "These others, they may be killed."

At that, Alistair released Evelyn, not daring to try and hold her back after that. The look that crossed Evelyn's face at her dearest friends and one of her only remaining recruits being threatened in such a way made the Void seem a preferable place to be than between her and her target.

The other darkspawn ran towards the party, with one still holding the weakened hostage in place, and Evelyn jabbed one hand in their direction; with the movement, fire curled around her hand, growing rapidly and wildly, until finally leaving her possession as a roiling fireball, aimed right at the feet of her enemies. The blast sent them flying backwards- most off their feet, one even off the fortifications and to the spikes below.

With not even a second of hesitation, Evelyn returned her attention to the talking darkspawn, using the same hand to shoot a long whip of flame towards it, latching around its wrist. Another yank pulled the creature towards her, and spinning to give herself more force, she booted it in the head once it was in range.

"You will pay for every life you have taken here tonight!" Evelyn shouted, her voice cracked with rage. "I will wring every drop of blood from you, slowly, _painfully_, until you are nothing but a corpse in my hands!"

Loghain, Alistair, and Mhairi had no trouble taking down the darkspawn that Evelyn had felled with her fireball, and Anders and Oghren kept the darkspawn rushing in from other areas in the keep from getting any further than eyesight before slaughtering them. Anders even gave Oghren a boost to one swing, adding an electric crackle to the axe's blade just before it cleaved three in half.

"Nice! I like the way it makes 'em jitter!" Oghren cackled.

"Me, too!" Anders agreed.

The talking darkspawn got to its feet again, but Evelyn thrust the blade of her staff into its gut, holding it there and slowly twisting, vengeance in her eyes.

"You...nn... do not... understand...!" The darkspawn pleaded, clearly meaning to say more before she wrenched her staff again.

"I don't need to understand _anything_ you have to say, you vile monster!" Evelyn snarled. "You killed them! You killed them _all!_ You threatened my _friends_!" She stepped closer, giving another twist to the blade. "Even if you _can_ speak, you are still a monster!" She leaned her face in the darkspawn's, sneering. "_And I do not reason with monsters!_"

Just as horror dawned in the darkspawn's eyes- an understanding that would haunt Evelyn for a long while, especially coupled with her bloodthirstiness- she tugged her staff loose. The spurt of blood sprayed black across her armor. With fierceness that startled an approaching Alistair, she pressed her palm over the darkspawn's face, and consumed it in a column of fire. Within seconds, the pained shrieks were cut off by a garbled, faltering gurgle; the darkspawn's innards had succumbed to the flames. And still the fire poured down.

"Evelyn, it's dead," Alistair ventured, lightly gripping the arm rigidly held over the blackening corpse, trying to gently break her spell. "They're all... they've all been dealt with now."

Slowly, the mask of rage lifted, her arm slackened, and the tears glittering in her eyes fell. Instead, her face twisted into grief, and she leaned into Alistair for support. Once again, he took her in his arms, gladly keeping her from buckling when she shifted the weight off her feet and onto him. Her staff clanged on the ground, forgotten, as she allowed herself to be enveloped. His hand drifted up, curling his fingers into her hair, and for just for that moment, they were alone.

Giving the Commander her space for the time being, Loghain turned to the now-freed hostage, offering his hand to help him to his feet. The man scowled at the offer, and pulled himself to his feet. Raising an eyebrow at the rebuff, Loghain shrugged it off. Waiting until Evelyn withdrew from her Second's support, the man approached her.

"Commander, I owe you my life," he began, speaking earnestly. "Had you not arrived when you did..."

"You owe me nothing, " Evelyn insisted, grateful for Alistair keeping one arm around her. "I'm just grateful you still live."

He shook his head, smiling faintly. "You will not abate my gratitude, Commander."

She sighed softly, then looked to him with renewed interest. "You're not a Grey Warden, but you seem familiar. Have we met?"

"Ah, forgive me, Commander. I am Varel, Seneschal of Vigil's Keep. Her Majesty, Queen Anora, appointed me in your absence to watch over daily affairs." He smiled warmly. "We've kept correspondence, but only met in passing shortly before you left."

Evelyn nodded, the memory of their brief meeting echoing in her mind. "Ah... yes, I recall now. Please forgive my distracted memory, Ser."

"Varel?" Alistair peered at him curiously. "Am I completely mistaken, or are you the same Varel who served as a Captain at Ostagar?"

"I am," he replied, his gaze dipping faintly in remembrance. "I was appointed in recognition for my service, though I gladly would have volunteered without the appointment." He looked back up to Evelyn. "I am honored to help the Grey Wardens in any way that I can... especially after what happened that night."

The implication in Varel's words did not escape Loghain, who crossed his arms but kept his tongue, not caring to enter that debate again. He suspected there wasn't much venom in Varel's insinuation anyway- certainly not as much as there had been in the whelp's biting aggression during and following the Landsmeet.

After a quick glance to her general, exchanging a look with him to reassure him that the debate wouldn't be kicked up again, Evelyn answered Varel's smile with one of her own, reaching out to him and grasping his hand in hers in a friendly shake. "I'm pleased to get the chance to know you better, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

A haunted look came over Varel's features. "That is undoubtedly an understatement, Commander."

Having been staring off into the distance, both bored by and not wanting to be involved in the conversation at hand, Anders found his attention snagged by a faint movement just beyond the keep. He turned to the others, and called, "Hey, sorry to interrupt, but I think we have some company!"

Coming back from the pleasantries of introduction, both Varel and Evelyn moved over to the edge of the fortifications, spotting the same movement. Varel smirked, "So it seems we do. Soldiers, by the look of it. Let us hope our new guests are most hospitable than the last ones."

"Who would possibly be coming all the way out here, and _now_ of all times?" Evelyn wondered anxiously. The Keep may have been cleared of darkspawn, but they were in no condition to be entertaining guests of _any_ sort. No, no, she would have to turn them away. After a moment, she became aware of Loghain's presence at her side.

"It seems my daughter could not contain her excitement over our return," he muttered dryly, pointing to the familiar banners marking Fereldan Royalty.

Alistair let out a prolonged groan. "Great! _Just_ what we need right now."

Evelyn put her finger to her pursed lips, tilting her head in thought. "...Maybe it _is_."

She conveniently ignored the interrogative, boggled looks on both Alistair and Loghain's faces, slowly smirking to herself as she plotted.


	5. Chapter 5: Don't Go

For What Binds Us  
_Chapter Five: Don't Go_

The rhythmic march of the soldiers on the path leading up to the keep was tempered with the almost musical tinkling of the rain splattering on their armor. Fortunately for them, this was not a mission requiring stealth; the racket they were generating just approaching their destination would have alerted everyone within several miles of their location. This was a procession of an attention-welcoming nature, however; the banners bearing the Fereldan lions in brilliant golds and oranges were carried proudly, and while the Queen had enough sense to make sure to have proper covering to protect her from the rain, she still came dressed in her finery, her regal bearing at odds with the glowing excitement she barely kept contained. She was a brilliant spot of brightness amidst the dreary darkness and greys of the night storm.

What the queen had _not_ accounted for, however, was the welcoming party coming out to greet them. Instead of arms wide and bright smiles, the group was somber- no, they were morose, and masking it poorly. The black blood that had been clotting on their armor was being rinsed in the rain, but there was no mistaking it; something had gone wrong. Displeasure melted the enthusiasm on the queen's face.

"Your Majesty," Evelyn greeted reverently, bowing deeply to the queen. While her respect for the throne could have been considered suspect at times, her role as the Warden-Commander- and her lack of interest in _losing_ the support of the throne- motivated her to keep up at least the motions of deference.

"Warden-Commander, it is a pleasure to see you again," The queen replied, surveying the team assembled in front of her; right by Evelyn's side, of course, were her father and the bastard son of Maric who reminded her all too keenly of her late husband-even awkwardly bowing as he was. Just behind her stood the drunken dwarf who had nearly ruined her coronation as queen regnant by interrupting the Grand Cleric with the loudest, most prolonged and guttural belch she'd _ever_ had the misfortune of hearing. Other than the Seneschal she'd personally appointed, she didn't recognize the other two keeping company with her favorite Warden-Commander.

She didn't like not knowing who they were; especially since one of them looked to be a mage.

"Queen Anora!" Mhairi exclaimed in shock, kneeling before her, head bent forward. While Oghren grinned at the show of respect for the human queen, Anders had his attention on another member of the queen's entourage; the Knight-Lieutenant glaring straight back at him.

Evelyn rose, but her smile was gone. "I apologize for meeting you all the way out here instead of in the keep, Your Majesty. I have unfortunate news, however."

"Yes, I was gathering as much already," the queen nodded slightly, frowning. "What has happened here?"

"Sadly, I don't know all of the details yet, Your Majesty. What I've been able to pick up, however, is that-"

Evelyn was cut off when a red-headed streak broke from the crowd and tackled her off her feet, knocking the both of them to the ground. After squeaking in surprise, Evelyn found herself in the clutches of a woman all-too-familiar to her. Instead of letting the Warden-Commander get back up, however, the woman remained happily latched around her dear friend. With the bright red hair, vivid even in the dark and gloom, her eyes a shining new-leaf green, and such strikingly beautiful features as to make the sweet-faced Evelyn look plain in comparison, the woman had a natural tendency to stand out from the crowd. Even her fine silks and leathers specifically designed for travel had delicate embroidery.

"Siobhan!" Evelyn squawked in cheerful surprise. She returned the embrace, beaming joyfully.

"Arlessa Cousland!" Mhairi gawped at the sight of the dignified and proud Arlessa of Denerim wrapped around the tiny Commander. While she already held the Commander in the highest esteem, she still hadn't yet pieced together how embroiled she was with the elite of Ferelden.

Evelyn laughed at her friend, who finally let go long enough to let her up again. Alistair, beaming, reached out a hand to the woman- one of the most powerful in all of Ferelden- to help her up. Accepting his hand, Siobhan immediately yanked herself into an embrace with Alistair, closing her arms around his neck and tightening her grip until even he winced in pain.

"Oh! I've missed you both so much!" Siobhan gushed warmly, tears coming to her eyes to validate her sincerity. "It's been far too long since I've seen you! Nearly four months since the last we spoke, and that was only because I'd gone to visit my brother and the two of you _happened_ to be there- _on business_!" She pouted. "And yet I still almost never saw you!"

Evelyn sighed. "Siobhan, we would have loved to see more of you, but as you said, we were there on official Grey Warden business."

Siobhan finally released Alistair, the green of her eyes lightening with a coy look as she smirked to Evelyn. "Oh yes, I've heard a lot about your 'Official Grey Warden Business'! Business that sounds an awful lot like an engagement!"

Evelyn's face burned, and Alistair grinned up at the sky, his hand going to the back of his neck in a gesture of embarrassment. While Loghain had already been long and _painfully_ aware of the two having made their commitment to one another official, the shock that registered on the expressions of their companions bordered on comical. Mhairi had noticed the two being rather... intimate (after all, who could miss _that_), but that the Commander and her Second were engaged? Oghren immediately started grinning like a madman, chuckling with innuendo and meaning.

Anders, on the other hand, flinched as though he'd been slapped outright. Suddenly, the punch to his nose before felt like a perfect analogue to this Alistair's role in his life; a bloody, startling pain. He kept a grunt of displeasure from escaping, but the anguished glower he now watched Evelyn with was more than obvious enough.

"Details of your personal life aside, I believe you were about to share with me details about why you are greeting me so far from the keep," Anora pressed, her patience running thin at the touching display between friends. "If the Arlessa doesn't mind waiting to resume her fond reunion with the heroes of Ferelden until after that, that is."

Nodding to her queen, Siobhan gave a faint bow, though the smirk never left her face for an instant. She might be willing to abide the queen needing to be the center of attention at all times- something she learned long before either Anora was queen or she was in Her Majesty's court nearly all hours of the day- and curb her tongue where appropriate, but that didn't stop Siobhan's mischievous personality from shining through in her wry grin.

"Yes, my apologies," Evelyn agreed, sighing out what good mood Siobhan managed to bring with her. "There was an attack on the keep, Your Majesty. Darkspawn overwhelmed the keep before we arrived, and while there were survivors, I.." Evelyn hesitated, much to Anora's annoyance, but she had to steel herself to admit this, "...I am saddened to report that there was significant loss in this disaster."

Anora's eyes had gone as icy cold as her father's, a frown tightening her features. " 'Disaster' implies that this was some sort of natural occurrence that couldn't be prevented. A darkspawn attack on a Grey Warden facility should, by definition, be something that could have been stopped before it began."

Evelyn writhed under the implied accusation of fault in Anora's tone, the loss of her men and women stirred all the more wretchedly. Varel glanced at the tension between the women, and stepped forward. "If I may, Your Majesty, I was there for the attack." When that chilled gaze went to him, he gulped. "We had no warning. Before there was any time to react, the darkspawn were everywhere. Many of the Grey Wardens from Orlais sensed them as they surged, but before they could scramble to readiness, the darkspawn were already upon us. In fact, I don't recall seeing where they all came from; it certainly wasn't any of the gates..."

Both Evelyn and Loghain took in the account with grim faces, both bewildered and troubled by what they heard. Varel himself had drifted into momentary confusion as he tried to puzzle out where he first saw them, but returned to himself under the queen's increasingly annoyed scrutiny.

"At any rate, the attack was catastrophic. I... we were only able to defend ourselves for so long, pushed back time and again. But the darkspawn were focused, and were after one thing; the Grey Wardens themselves. Outside of the Commander and her company, here, all of the Grey Wardens that were here are either dead or missing."

"Missing?" Anora's brow furrowed fiercely. "What do you mean, 'missing'?"

"Yes, I'm curious to know this, too," Evelyn insisted of Varel, frowning. "I had thought that there were far too few Grey Wardens among the fallen, but had not realized... do you mean to say that the darkspawn _took_ them?"

"Why would they do such a thing?" Loghain asked incredulously. "The darkspawn are not capable of such advanced tactics as taking hostages or torturing for information, and certainly not without an Archdemon to guide them."

"To be fair, we also didn't think they were capable of speech, and that was proven to be wrong," Alistair pointed out.

"Just because they are capable of mimicking our speech in crude, rudimentary language does _not_ mean they are capable of advanced forethought or strategy. After all, you stand as proof as such," Loghain countered, more provoked by his growing sense of dread that Alistair had a point; something was going on with the darkspawn, and he didn't like it.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't understand what you said. I don't speak Priggish Arse," Alistair returned, though the faint pout showed that Loghain had needled him a bit.

"Really? I think you speak it rather fluently," Anders suggested lightly, grinning.

Alistair's head whipped around to deliver a rather sharp glare at Anders. "That's rich, coming from _you_."

"_Boys_." Evelyn's tone had adopted a rather motherly sternness, one she had learned from mediating between her two closest companions within the Grey Wardens. "You dishonor both myself and our queen with your bickering!"

"Oh, no, however will I-Oomph!" Anders' sarcasm was cut off by an elbow in the gut from Loghain, who regarded him icily. That stare was enough to silence Anders for the time being.

"Warden-Commander, I trust that you will investigate this thoroughly while you work to bolster your ranks... _again_?" Anora inquired calmly but with more than a hint of frost in her tone.

Evelyn took exception to the queen laying the blame at her feet; even if she would endlessly blame herself, she didn't need the queen passing judgment on her, as well. Defiantly, her watery blue gaze met the crystalline ice of the queen's. "I promise you, Anora, that I will do everything I can to find out the root of this attack, and shed light on all mystery. In the meantime, rest assured that the wardens your _father_ and I recruited will be joining us here in Vigil's Keep not too long from now."

The queen did not miss the sudden lack of formality when addressing her, but let it slide with a raised eyebrow. "Good. I would hate to lose Amaranthine to another darkspawn incursion, especially when we have such a _capable_ Commander in place to protect it."

"I am honored by your faith in me, Your Majesty," Evelyn bowed, staying just this side of letting her sarcasm be clear enough to call out. Alistair, on the other hand, snorted derisively, more than mildly miffed at the queen dropping such a load of guilt on Evelyn's head. If he cared any less about not making things worse for the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, when their place of esteem was only so recently won and still tentative at best, he might have challenged Anora's blatant disrespect.

"Why are you here, Anora?" Loghain asked bluntly. "You cannot have come all the way from Denerim just to have a hissy fit at the Commander."

She pouted at her father slightly, adopting the familiar tug-at-the-heartstrings expression she always used when she wanted something. "I wanted to welcome the heroes that saved my country from the Blight to their new home! I was not expecting such a disaster to have unfolded before either of us arrived!"

Alistair leaned to murmur in Evelyn's ear, "Oh, so _now_ it's a disaster."

Evelyn replied, just as quietly, "When it suits her, everything's a disaster."

"It seems, however, that I will not be able to stay for very long, as I'd intended," Anora continued, fidgeting in the girlish way she had. "If the keep has been overrun, then remaining here would not be suitable. With this rain, I am not eager to prolong this any more than necessary. I shall be returning to Denerim tonight."

"What!" Siobhan squawked, crossing her arms. "Your Majesty, I did _not_ tag along with you on this stupid trek just to _turn back_ when my friends need me most. I'm _not_ taking one step closer to Denerim until the morning, _after_ I've had the chance to sit down and enjoy a hot meal by the fire- _indoors_!"

Anora smiled sweetly, "My dear Arlessa, where do you propose we do so? In a burning keep with corpses surrounding us? My appetite shrivels to think of such as properly accommodating of women of our status."

"Because there's nothing between here and Denerim, right? Nothing like that dinky little port town Amaranthine- oh, _wait_!" Siobhan put her finger to her mouth in mock realization. "But _surely_ they don't have any sort of accommodations that would suit your delicate taste! So mucking about in the mud and rain while waiting for a flimsy tent to be erected is a _much_ more palatable choice!"

After a moment of an absolutely frigid stare down, Anora relented, "Very well. You have made a fine point; traveling so far in this weather wouldn't behoove either of us, especially after all the trouble to get here." She smiled to the others. "I would imagine that our gracious would-be hosts will be robbed of their beds for the night as well. Warden-Commander, would you and the others care to join us as we head to Amaranthine for the night?"

Looking back at the keep, whose fires were being slowly doused in a combination of the rain, and able-bodied survivors working to restore the keep as best they could, Evelyn felt her guilt return in a forceful pang. They needed her, and the task ahead for them wasn't going to be easy. Her head dipped, and she slowly faced the queen again, smiling apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. My duty lies here, in the keep. I cannot join you tonight." She looked to her companions, on whom she wouldn't inflict the horror of staying the night in the keep for anything. "I hold no one else to this, however. You may all join the Queen and the Arlessa in Amaranthine, if-"

"Not a chance," Alistair interrupted, smiling. "My place is with you, always. If you are staying, than I am, too."

"As loathe as I am to turn down the company of my daughter, I will be remaining as well," Loghain added without missing a beat. "My responsibility to those who died here will be answered for."

"I will be staying, as well." Mhairi sighed, her heart clenching. While on their way through the keep, they'd run into a dear friend of hers; Rowland. He'd already been fatally wounded, and they'd had to watch as he succumbed to his injuries, but not before he'd given the last of his strength to warn Evelyn about the darkspawn on the fortifications. They'd had to leave him there in their hurry... but Mhairi was going to give him a proper funeral.

Seeing the relief edging its way onto Evelyn's face, fighting with her regret at her friends being made to endure the horror of that keep any longer than necessary, Siobhan grinned. "Kiddo, I'm not going anywhere, either. I came here to see _you_, not the keep. And the more hands helping out, the better."

She turned to her personal contingent of guards, who stood at attention when she did. "What say you, men? Will you help us out in rebuilding the keep?"

Several shouted in unison, "Yes, Ma'am!" while others trailed behind, but the resolved smiles on their faces spoke more than their immediate response to their Arlessa did.

Oghren looked around, between Evelyn, Siobhan, Alistair, and the Queen, and scowled poutily. "Awrgh, but... the ale... the wenches... but..." He shook his head decisively. "Aw, sod it. Pipsqueak, I'm with ya! You'd be lost without a good dwarf to keep his head when all you humans start losin' yours, anyway."

"You're nuts, dwarf!" Anders snickered. "If it's all the same to the rest of you, I think I'm going to head into town myself. Er, no offense, erm, Majesty, but I'd rather go alone." His occasional sidelong glance towards the Knight-Lieutenant gave his motives away. "I'm not much for traveling with crowds, and hey, looks like Vigil's Keep is about to be crowded, so it's about time I-"

"Your Majesty, please allow me to arrest this man!" The templar, a woman with tight braids wound similarly to how Anora wore her golden locks and a stern, serious expression, finally spoke up, incited by Anders daring to suggest walking free. "He is dangerous and a threat to all that is good!"

"Oh?" Anora asked mildly, surprised.

The templar glared at Anders. "This is an apostate who we were in the process of bringing back to the Circle to face justice!"

Contempt absorbed Anders' features. "Oh, please. The things _you_ people know about justice would fit into a thimble. I'll just escape again, anyhow."

"Never!" the templar cried, clenching her fists. "I will see you hanged for all you've done, _murderer_!"

"_Murderer_?" Anders spat in outrage. "But those templars were- oh, what's the use?" He sank bitterly. "You wouldn't believe me, anyhow."

Evelyn regarded Anders cautiously, a strange look in her eye. He avoided meeting her gaze, his expression taut with frustration and resignation.

"I believe that, unless you have proof, Knight-Lieutenant," Evelyn noted the particular accouterments designating the woman's rank, "You are levying a groundless accusation against a very good friend of mine. I will not stand for slander."

"Proof?" The templar sneered. "Where are the templars that were escorting him? Why are they not with you?"

"If you lack the imagination to connect a surprise attack on the keep with the death of two men, then I fear for the men serving under you when danger arises," Loghain commented acerbically.

The woman started, glancing to Loghain in surprise, then resumed her outrage. "Then why does _he_ yet live? How did he not perish in the attack?"

Alistair shrugged. "The bars of the cell he was in might have something to do with keeping the darkspawn at bay."

Evelyn scowled. "Or perhaps an apostate who has had to learn how to survive on his own using the magic that _your kind_ always so plainly disdains was able to fend off the danger until we arrived."

The templar bristled. " 'Your kind', mage? I am not surprised you hold templars in contempt!"

Evelyn smiled brightly. "Oh no! Not templars! Some of my closest friends are templars!" The smile dropped off her face, and a keenly cold glare replaced it. "I mean people precisely like you, who use their self-righteousness to condemn without any evidence to support such condemnation. Again, if you have no evidence but for the lack of templar escort, then I will insist you withdraw your slanderous accusation immediately."

The women exchanged a long glare, the air thick with their lack of regard for one another, until the templar finally relented, unable to meet the startlingly intense gaze of the woman whose size disguised her presence. "Very well. I... have no evidence for my claims. I will, however, still be taking him into custody; he is still an apostate, and a dangerous one at that."

"No, you won't." Evelyn was smiling again, though this time with more than a hint of mischief glinting in her eye.

"She won't?" Anders echoed, his eyebrows nearly connecting with his hairline in incredulity.

"What grounds do you have to prevent me from taking this apostate to meet justice for what he's done?" The Knight-Lieutenant cried, distressed by Evelyn's calmness.

"You can't have him," Evelyn repeated. "I invoke the Right of Conscription; he will be joining the Grey Wardens under my command. As of this moment, he is under my protection." She then smiled to the queen, using just a little touch of Anora's own talent for wheedling. "Assuming that you will still uphold the rights restored to the Grey Wardens when King Maric allowed our order to return to Ferelden?"

Having watched the exchange with interest, Anora regarded Evelyn curiously. On the one hand, by Chantry law, the templar had every right to claim the mage, and the throne was always meant to defer to the Chantry before any other authority. Had this been any other Grey Warden (excepting her father, of course), she would have flatly denied such a request. On the other hand, the woman standing in front of her was not only the Warden-Commander, but the Hero of Ferelden, and the woman that her father willingly deferred to; he'd even seemed relieved to find purpose in serving her order. She was untouchable in the eyes of Fereldans, she had powerful allies even within the nobility- Arlessa of Denerim aside, many other nobles spoke glowingly of the capable young woman.

With a faint smile, Anora turned to the Knight-Lieutenant. "I believe that there's nothing that can be done; the Grey Wardens still retain their Right of Conscription, and I would not dare profane King Maric's memory by breaking the very laws he agreed upon contractually with the Grey Wardens. Besides," Anora looked back to Evelyn, a more pointed look on her face now, "I believe that the Commander is more than capable of ensuring that he complies with Chantry law while among her ranks. She would not let him return to life as an apostate, but instead put him to service for both the Maker and Ferelden."

"Of course, my queen," Evelyn nodded respectfully, internally rejoicing that her gambit in trusting Anora to back her had won. Of course, her victory seemed to be less well-received by the man she'd plucked from the clutches of the templars; Anders frowned uncertainly, glancing between the three women with confusion.

"I..." The templar's eyes darkened in bitter hatred, scouring the mages with the flames of damnation in her mind. After her hesitation, she forced her gaze back to the ground, her right eye twitching as she conceded, "Very well. I have no choice but to allow this."

"Congratulations, Ser Mage," Mhairi offered tentatively. "I'm certain that if the Commander has such confidence in you, that you will be a welcome addition to the Grey Wardens."

Anders heard none of what Mhairi had to say. He was staring at Evelyn so intently he could have burned holes in the back of her head. He would have to demand answers from her later; with a templar standing _right there_, now was definitely not the time to argue with her about a protected status.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, and Knight-Lieutenant. I will insist on bidding you well for the evening, however, as there is still much to do for the keep, and you must all be exhausted from your journey," Evelyn suggested kindly. "Please, make haste to Amaranthine, where you can rest in comfort before you return. I shall come to see you in the morrow, to settle any other affairs and inform you of the full status of our work for the last several months."

The queen nodded. "That is acceptable. I look forward to hearing from you first thing in the morning, Commander."

Evelyn kept a grimace from manifesting, but her smile definitely became strained. "Of course, Your Majesty. Maker bless your travels and keep you safe."

"Be on the alert for any darkspawn," Loghain warned abruptly, a look of uncertainty barely skimming over his stern features. "There are still many lingering where they are not welcome."

With a touch of surprise softening her expression, Anora then smiled to him. "Of course, Father. I will keep safe."

After a beat, Loghain nodded curtly, and let his daughter and her men turn to head back towards the main road. Although she waited until she was facing away from her father, Anora couldn't keep a relieved smile from curling her lips; so, he was still trying to watch out for her after all.

"So when do _I_ get to be conscripted, Pipsqueak?" Oghren demanded. "You tellin' me you would sooner recruit _this_ arse-sniffer than offer the Grey Wardening Cup to _me_, yer good buddy?"

Evelyn chuckled softly, the weight of the evening's events suddenly crushing over her spirit. When her gaze fell on Anders again, it was sober and saddened. "Anders is another dear friend of mine, Oghren. I had no choice _but_ to recruit him, to keep that _bitch_ from trying to claim him."

Understanding flooded Anders' face, his eyes widening and all humor and confusion draining out in a moment of sincere appreciation. Despite her anger at him before, he was still her friend...despite the way he'd left things _before_, she still considered him a friend. And she would fight to protect him from the templars even now. For the first time since he fled the tower four years prior, the smile that only seemed to crop up when he was in Lynnie's company warmed his expression.

Siobhan gripped Evelyn's ear in a tight pinch. "Since when do you use such _language, _Kiddo?"

"Owww!" Evelyn winced, bending in the direction Siobhan tugged her ear.

"I told you, the proper term for someone like her is 'Uptight Shit-Licking Super-Bitch'!" Siobhan lectured sternly, finally releasing Evelyn's ear. "We call people by their _proper_ titles when I'm around, Missy!"

Alistair wasted no time in wrapping Evelyn in a snug embrace from behind, letting her lean against him and share the load bearing down on her. He kissed the top of her head, and lingered there, speaking through her curls. "I have an idea. We can punish her by insisting she _not_ help in the clean up of the keep. Instead, she can have a moment to herself after dealing with all of this, plus traveling with Loghain and me all week."

"Perhaps it would behoove her to spend this time catching her 'old friend' up to date, as well. There is much he will need to know before we put him through any sort of Joining," Loghain suggested, which sparked Anders tensing up considerably.

"Woah, you're serious about making me join you guys?" He put up both hands. "I don't know, I mean, I've never been one much for 'joining' anything."

From the comfort of her lover's arms, Evelyn quietly looked to Anders. "You don't really have a choice right now... if you leave me-us," she corrected quickly, "You won't be protected. I won't be able to stop that templar from capturing you, and you _know_ what they'll do to you if that happens."

Anders scowled. "So that's it, then? Running from the cage, I get my leg caught in a trap instead?"

Evelyn sighed heavily, and stepped away from Alistair, approaching Anders. Before he could say anything, protest or otherwise, she clutched him down to her, clinging, speaking softly. "I already thought I lost you once, my friend. Please... don't run away again. Stay with me. Hear me out. I won't let anyone hurt you or take you from me anymore, so please..._don't go_."

At once pained and comforted by both her words and her touch, Anders felt his hands lift to go around her, then hesitate, terrified of what it would mean if he let them rest on her back, if he might splay them possessively or curl them in her hair. Instead, he let them drop back to his sides... but he didn't shove her away, either.

"...Okay," he whispered to her. He couldn't have said otherwise, anyway; not with her so close.

Having watched the man resist his blatant temptation, and recognizing all too clearly the struggling, unrequited affection in his expression, Alistair's eyes narrowed.


	6. Chapter 6: The Healers

For What Binds Us  
_Chapter Six: The Healers_

"I still don't like it," Alistair pouted as he helped load more of the bodies onto the wagon. Despite the grim nature of the task at hand, he was struggling to stay focused.

"I can't imagine why you're uncomfortable with another man clearly intimately familiar with the woman you've recently betrothed yourself to getting to spend time alone with her without your _much needed_ supervision," Loghain remarked, making sure that the corpses were stacked as compassionately as they could be; to help rid the keep of the taint, and to prevent it from spreading, the only remedy was to send those who fell that evening to be burned, away from the keep. This was the largest kindness they could grant both the dead and those who still lived.

Alistair scoffed. "She doesn't need my _supervision_, Loghain; I'm just not comfortable with someone I don't even know cozying up to her so quickly. I mean, sure, she knows him..._obviously_, I mean, the way she trusted him _immediately_, even though he's also clearly a gigantic arse-"

"She's _never_ trusted anyone you consider to be an arse, that's true," Loghain continued, heading back to collect more of the fallen.

"Would you stop making me sound unreasonable?" Standing alone by the wagon now, Alistair threw his arms wide, irritated that Loghain had turned his _perfectly legitimate complaints_ around to somehow sound hollow, whiny, and jealous. He didn't _actually_ sound like that... did he?

"Oh, Pup, you don't need Loghain to do that for you." Helping a man with an injured leg cross the grounds to where the wounded were being tended to by the two resident healers, Siobhan had wandered close enough to catch Alistair's pouting.

"Oh, right, ha, ha, Siobhan," Alistair crossed his arms. "Look, is it really so wrong of me to be uncomfortable with this? He's been a right arse to her several times already!"

"Twinkletoes, if you don't move _your_ arse and keep helpin' out, I'm gonna wedge my axe where the sun don't shine, and then you'll be _really_ uncomfortable!" Oghren grumbled as he stacked two corpses on the wagon- admittedly haphazardly, but he would argue that at least he wasn't standing around whimpering to anyone who would listen.

"Fine, I get it, Alistair's concerns are _never_ important, message received, back to work," Alistair grumped out in frustration, stalking back off to his assigned task... though not without casting a glance towards where Siobhan was taking the injured soldier.

-xxx-

"There you are, lad," Siobhan assured the soldier as she set him down on the bench, propping his leg up for him gently. "One of them will be with you in just a moment. Hold on tight until then, alright?"

"Yes, Arlessa Cousland," the soldier replied dutifully, looking up at the beautiful woman with stars in his eyes, his youth all the more readily apparent. "Thank you!"

"Aw, lad, you just take care of yourself," she bent to pinch his cheek. "You did good. Just keep it up, okay!"

"I will, Arlessa Cousland!" He nodded vehemently.

She patted him on the head, then turned to face the two mages standing a ways off. With each tending to their own patients, standing back to back, they were lost in concentration for the moment; Evelyn was trying to close a hole in a young man's stomach, while Anders was cleaning the gash on a woman's temple. Still, both were smiling to their respective patients, and Siobhan was struck at how the same gentleness she'd always known Evelyn to have manifested, even momentarily, in this apostate as well. She wondered if it wasn't a trait that all healers shared, or if perhaps their friendship was predicated on such a mutual kindness.

"That's the last of them for now, Kiddo. Let me know if you need anything; I'm going back to collecting wood for the pyres," Siobhan sketched a salute.

"Thank you, Siobhan. If you wouldn't mind, actually, we could use more bandages. I believe there are a few more injury kits in Loghain's packs, somewhere, and that would help us out." Evelyn didn't take her gaze from her patient, and even while she addressed Siobhan, her voice was soft and lulling.

Siobhan hesitated."But you're doing the magical healing thing, why do you need bandages?"

"Because magical healing can only do so much, bandages help keep things closed so that people can heal naturally, and because eventually even we mages get tired?" It was Anders who responded to her question this time, also not taking his eyes off of the wound as it slowly knit itself together again.

"Right then, I'll go ask Grumpypants for whatever he's got available," Siobhan shrugged, grinning, before heading off to leave the mages to their work.

Silence fell over the temporary 'clinic' they'd set up as the mages worked their magic; a comfortable silence, with each properly in their element. Many of those who were injured had already been given healing potions and some medicine that made the pain seem a lot more distant than before, and were content to relish the temporary peace.

"So..." Anders broke the silence, though managing to keep it from being startling. "You keep very interesting company these days, Lynnie."

"I certainly do," she replied calmly, though her fingers flexed mildly. "Siobhan is a darling. Don't let the way she acts sometimes fool you; she's as big a softie as you always were, underneath it all."

"Calling me a softie is like calling Jowan masculine; it just doesn't ring true once you get a good look at us," Anders deflected, though his brow furrowed in delight.

"Say... whatever happened to our good pal? Was he... I mean, the way things went down in the tower..." Anders asked, both trepidatious and curious. When Evelyn gave no immediate response, he finally turned from his patient to look at her. "Lynnie?"

With a tremulous sigh, she smiled sadly down at the healing wound beneath her hands, and wondered if the emotional puncture Anders was poking would ever stop bleeding. "Jowan wasn't at the tower at the time, actually. He... he escaped the tower before then."

Anders actually stopped what he was doing, shocked as he was. "_Jowan_ escaped the tower? How?"

"Well, he had help from a newly harrowed mage, and his initiate lover."

Anders whistled. "That _dog_! How'd he get himself involved with that?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes, still not facing Anders, which prompted him to return to helping the woman- this time with her wrenched elbow, from having hid in confined conditions. Evelyn let out another sigh. "I honestly don't know. He only told me about her the day he escaped."

Catching the morose note to the way she spoke, Anders asked, "Lynnie, what happened?"

Another long pause. "It started when I was called for my Harrowing, actually."

Anders gulped; so, she _had_ been put through that useless trial. Recalling his own experience being forced into the Fade and facing a demon, he shuddered what they must have put the girl who was supposed to be the First Enchanter's apprentice and protegè through.

"I passed, of course," she smirked at Anders. "And with me being Harrowed, I had certain privileges that I didn't have before. Jowan decided to take advantage of this to enact his own plan. See, his little initiate girlfriend discovered the paperwork calling for Jowan to be made Tranquil-"

"Woah, woah, woah, wait- Tranquil? _Jowan_?" Anders reeled at the idea; Jowan might have been _annoying_, but he certainly wasn't the sort to step that far out of line... well, not without encouragement from Anders himself.

"They suspected him of dabbling with blood magic." The dark, bitter taste in her mouth turned to a coldness in her eyes that, fortunately, her patient missed- blissed out as he was on the soothing sensation of the magic healing him. "As it turns out, they were _right_. When I helped him to destroy his phylactery- long story, _don't_ ask- we were confronted by several templars. Cornered, Jowan resorted to blood magic, and after knocking us all off our feet, he ran."

"I had no idea the kid had it in him," Anders admitted thoughtfully, patting the woman on the shoulder when he felt that her arm had mended. "Alright, milady, I believe you are set. If you still feel a little off, feel free to seek out a nice bottle of wine."

"Th-thank you, Ser," the woman nodded quickly, having difficulty meeting his gaze. He wondered if the subject of their conversation hadn't unsettled her so. Either way, she hurried off to leave him to his business.

"It was a shock to me, too," Evelyn said, closing her eyes. "As it was, he left me to shoulder the blame for the entire thing. You know how Greggy-Poo never really liked me that much, how he always had it in for me?"

He swallowed the rising dread. "...Yeah?"

Her eyes opened again. "He seized the opportunity to try and have me made Tranquil. He finally had his 'proof' that I was a problem mage that needed tending to, declared it outright, and had me hauled off to the Harrowing chamber before anyone could stop him."

His eyes went stark wide at that, and he went to her side, resting his hand on her upper arm to catch her attention. "He had the balls to do that? What did Irving have to say about all of this? I can't imagine he would let his protegè go quietly into the night like that, no matter what I thought of him!"

"He couldn't do anything to stop it," she sighed. "He wanted to, don't get me wrong. But I had helped a blood mage to escape, and had destroyed his phylactery, making it nigh impossible to track him down again." She gave Anders an extremely pointed look, one that made him recoil. "Never mind that I was considered an accomplice to _your_ escape only a few years prior, and could never really clear my name of that- at least in Greagoir's mind."

Realization hit Anders over the head like a hammer, causing a thudding ache to sprout. He'd spent years planning for his escape, looking for an opportunity to pry the gates of fate wide open and leave; but his plans had always included taking Lynnie with him, freeing her alongside him. When the circumstances changed, and escaping with Lynnie was no longer possible, he'd had to improvise. His head muddled, his heart confused and hurt, he'd only pinched an opening wide enough for himself to leave... and hadn't thought until _just now_ just how that would backlash against his only friend in the tower.

"Oh Maker, I... Lynnie, I never meant..."

"I'm sure." The abrupt cut off stabbed him straight through the heart.

He cleared his throat. "But here you are, Not-Tranquil. So how did _that_ happen?"

The man under her care sighed contentedly as the hole she had been healing finally closed, and she smiled to him. "There you are. Feel free to rest for a moment. When you're up to it, you're welcome to head off to another part of the keep."

"Thank you, Hero of Ferelden," the man breathed happily.

Before Anders could press Evelyn again for a reply, she turned to start working on the next injured guard- a man with several stabs across his body. Frowning, she knelt to examine the stab marks; the edges of each wound showed darker lines streaming away, and was pallid. Checking his eyes, blotches were already forming underneath them... and a faintness to his eyes, far too familiar to her by now.

"Ser, I..."

"I know," he confirmed, a tear sliding down his cheek. "I can feel it. It wouldn't be long now anyway."

Evelyn nodded, standing straight again. "Would you like me to end it quickly for you?"

The guard's face twisted in a grimace of anguish, and more tears fell. "My wife. She lives in Denerim. If someone can send word to her, I would... I would be eternally grateful."

"I will arrange for that, Ser," Evelyn promised, tilting his gaze up to meet hers with a gentle touch to his chin. "What is your name, soldier?"

"Gavin Narkwith," he replied softly.

"Are you ready?"

"...Yes."

"Then let us away from the others."

Anders watched in shock as Evelyn helped the man to his feet, letting him lean on her, before leading him off to a place just beyond the line of sight of the others in the clinic. She set him down, and pressed her hand to his forehead in a soft caress. With a burst of mana, she severed his tenuous connection to life, and let his spirit free from his failing body. The last expression he wore was one of gratitude, of relief. Even so, she let her hand fall, closing his eyes as she did.

"Lynnie, what was that?" As soon as she was back in sight, Anders confronted her.

She breezed past him, leaving a chill in her wake. Finally stopping a few paces past him, she let her eyes meet his again in a slow turn. "He was dying of the taint. Instead of letting him endure that pain, I... I had to..."

Anders was floored. Not that it was easy for her- the pain shimmering in her eyes now made that heartbreakingly clear- but that she was _capable_ of taking someone's life, so calmly and capably, was so beyond what he thought Lynnie could do.

"I am a Grey Warden, Anders. I am the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. It is my responsibility to stop the Blight, and to be vigilant of the darkspawn." She held out her hands, palm up, in front of her, and stared down at the calluses that had risen in the last year. "The attack on the keep was _my_ responsibility to prevent, and I failed. All I can do now is try to stop the pain from being worse than it is."

Unable to bear the deep sorrow in her tone- a sorrow that he knew all too well from their years together in the tower- Anders wrapped Evelyn in a hug, refusing to let her ruminate on what she believed to be her fault.

"You saved him, Lynnie. If you hadn't shown up when you did, more would have been lost. I know _I'm_ profoundly grateful that it was _you_ charging in that door, and not some other Grey Warden. Don't you dare feel guilt over any of this."

"I see you two have made up." A voice more than slightly frosted with accusation cut through the tender moment between the two old friends. Anders immediately released Evelyn, who spun to face the one who approached; Alistair.

"Alistair, what's going on?" Evelyn immediately closed the distance between them. "Are you done with collecting the fallen?"

"I wanted to check in on my favoritest mage ever, Love," he answered lightly, a smile coming to his face despite the jealousy still flooding his veins.

"Already? Why, I'm touched!" Anders fluttered dramatically. "I had no idea you felt that way!"

"Oh yeah, I have no idea why I haven't bedded you yet," Alistair smirked. "Let's do it, then; right now, right in front of Evelyn. I'm sure she'd love the show."

Evelyn only had time to pinch her lips together in amusement at what she knew was coming before Anders slithered up to Alistair and gently brushed one finger down his cheek, the most seductive smile he could muster curling his lips. "That sounds great. Let's get you out of that heavy armor and put your sword to the test!"

The effect on Alistair was alarming, as he launched backwards, hands going up to stop the mage from advancing on him again. "That- that's not, I didn't mean that _seriously_-Ow!" He stumbled over a crate, crashing to the floor in a mess of limbs and armor.

Having been laughing so hard as to squeeze the tears of sorrow from her eyes and replace them with warmth and mirth, Evelyn went to Alistair's side when he fell, still giggling madly. "Oh, Love, I never got the chance to warn you about Anders. I'm so sorry, but you really walked into that one."

"Aw, does this mean I don't get to play with him tonight, Lynnie?" Anders asked with a pout.

"No, that's _my_ job," Evelyn returned, smirking. Even as Alistair flushed bright red at the conversation, Anders was taken aback by her retort; she... she was comfortable with this? She wasn't flustering like she always used to.

"Yeah!" Alistair added as he got to his feet. "That's _her_ job! You know, the lady I'm actually with? The, the _lady_, you know?"

"Oh yes, of course you're with a _lady_, Mister Manly Man!" Anders feigned innocence. "Can't have you challenging your masculinity with the notion of experimenting with someone a little closer to home, can you?"

"Maker's Breath, he's as bad as Zevran!" Alistair hissed through his teeth.

"What's a Zevran?" Anders tilted his head curiously.

"That's a good question, now isn't it?" Alistair returned thoughtfully. "Sharper minds than mine have contemplated the answer to that, and still come up with nothing substantial."

Evelyn cackled. "He's an elf from Antiva. He traveled with us during the Blight. He also tends to come on very strong when he's interested... and he's almost always interested."

"Ahh," Anders nodded. The mention of the Blight had tied his stomach in knots again, realizing again that he knew nothing of what Evelyn had been through since he'd left. She'd met so many new people, _important_ people, and become one of those important people. _Hero of Ferelden_, his mind whispered to him. She was no longer just a fellow mage from Kinloch Hold.

"Anyway, Love..." Now that he had some respite from the jokes at his expense, Alistair put one arm around her waist, smiling down to her. "I believe that you were told to take the night to relax, were you not? Even though I'm sure your help here has been appreciated, I can't help but feel that your friend here can handle it on his own. Right?" He asked of Anders, who nodded.

"Alistair, I need to-"

"You need to nothing, that's what. I was dismissed from body-stacking duty because Loghain felt my effort would be better spent making _your_ evening better. I happen to agree," he added, stooping to press a tender kiss to her lips, deliberately stopping another protest forming there. Indeed, it had the intended effect; she melted immediately, eyes closing.

"We were able to clear out at least a few of the rooms, and much has been cleaned. Everyone here should be able to rest well enough tonight without taint or blood to disturb them. I say we settle in to our own bed chambers for the night," Alistair suggested quietly, running his thumb across her cheekbone, adoring the happiness that lit in her eyes at the gesture.

"I..." she meant fully to say that no, she wasn't done yet, she had much work to do, so many left to heal, to take care of. Instead, what came out was, "I think I _do_ need some rest, Love. And I need your help with that."

"So, how did you two meet, anyway?" Anders asked, his voice pitched a little higher than he intended it to be. The way Alistair's face fell to disgruntlement, Evelyn shot a questioning look at Anders.

"We met when I was recruited. Are you really going to be alright here on your own?" Evelyn replied, sinking her head against Alistair's chest.

"Oh no you don't- I want to hear the story!" Anders pressed with a smile so fake he wondered if his face might split from the effort.

"Longer version, then; Evelyn showed up at Ostagar, was beautiful and charming and kicked Darkspawn butt, and then the Blight happened. Somewhere in the middle, we ended up together." Alistair wasn't even bothering to mask his irritation now.

"Anders, I promise, you'll get the full story when I'm not about to fall asleep on my feet," Evelyn sighed, putting her hand on Alistair's chest just inches from her nose. He couldn't feel it, of course, but the gesture still sent thrills through both of them. "Just take care of the injured for tonight, alright? I'll be back a little later, when it's time for your Joining."

"_Joining_?" Anders squeaked, then crossed his arms over his chest. "I mean, of course, Lynnie. You deserve some time to relax." He winked at Alistair.

Alistair deliberately ignored the attempt at 'bonding' with him, especially when it came at the expense of Evelyn's privacy when it came to their relationship. He turned Evelyn away, and began leading her off.

"Thank you, Anders," Evelyn called over her shoulder, smiling.

He returned the smile, which faded as she disappeared into the keep. For a while there, he'd been enjoying the company of his dearest friend. The same effect she'd always had on him, making him feel at ease, comfortable, like some part of him was actually a decent person and would take root and blossom, was now gradually draining from him again. He'd already long ago figured out that the only good part of him was with Lynnie, who always saw exactly who he was and loved him anyway.

He cringed, and headed back to the remaining patients, his heart clenching.

-xxx-

Laying her head on Alistair's chest, this time her cheek meeting flesh instead of metal, Evelyn sighed in contentment. Their armor, shed nearly the moment the door had latched shut, lay beside the bed they occupied. Alistair was already long asleep, snoring softly. Truly, while both had half-heartedly sought a release from the stress of the day in each other's arms, neither had the energy to go much further than burying themselves in a loving embrace. Instead, they settled for simply being together, being a comfort in dark times. As always.

Suited Evelyn just fine. Her mind was miles away, flown to the ruins of Ostagar, when Duncan had held out that cup filled with darkness and evil, that sang with lyrium, and she'd put the cup to her lips and was pulled into the darkness forever.

And now she was going to do the very same to her friends. Her eyes closed again, one tear falling against Alistair's skin.


	7. Chapter 7: Onto Her Shoulders

For What Binds Us  
_Chapter Seven: Onto Her Shoulders_

_**Author's Note:**__ I want to thank everyone who has been reading and reviewing- thank you so much! I'm really pleased to see people still invested in Evelyn's story, especially because I've shifted gears so many times with it. _

_Thanks to Persephone Chiara for helping me keep going with this, and for writing alongside me! Also, the mention of Rhiannon in this chapter refers to her very own Rhia Cous-Cous. :3 So, much appreciation to her for generously allowing me to incorporate her into my story._

_And, for those who don't know, a goodly chunk of the established friendship between Evelyn and Anders is covered in my story, A Bittersweet Affection. Just to give some background to this story, though it's not necessary. ;) Thanks!_

"The time has come for us to begin the Joining. I shall speak the words that have been said since the first," Seneschal Varel proclaimed to those assembled. The ceremony was small, a gathering of only a handful, but still important. Standing to Varel's right were the Warden-Commander, her Second and her General. Before him stood the three recruits: Mhairi, who had joined with dreams of glory and honor, inspired by Evelyn's own heroism; Oghren, drawn to where he felt his axe would do some good- at his friend's side; and Anders, who was glancing to the door, increasingly aware of the stifling feel of the ceremony... and the feeling that he might just be gaining another shackle around his ankle.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn," Varel intoned nobly. "And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day we shall join you."

As the memory of Alistair reciting the same words to her- clearly having practiced them until he had it just right- played in her mind's eye, Evelyn gently slid her hand into Alistair's, who gave her fingers a light squeeze. He was remembering much the same; only, in his mind, he saw her eyes shining in the dark, watching him with innocence and pride. Loghain's head dipped forward slightly, his eyebrows knitting together. His own Joining had not had such gentle memories attached to it.

Varel retrieved the goblet containing the mixture, the concoction that would turn these three recruits into full Grey Wardens, and approached Oghren. "From this moment forth, Oghren, you are a Grey Warden."

"What's this, the sampler size?" Oghren growled, glaring at Varel. "Are you trying to say something about my height, Eh!"

Varel glanced to Evelyn uncertainly, whose free hand had gone over her smile to hide it, then looked back to Oghren. "Err... this is the same goblet we've always used."

"Really? Huh." Not sure if he bought the excuse, Oghren raised the goblet to his lips and drank heartily. After a moment of watching him intently, both the Seneschal and the Grey Wardens anticipating the collapse of the dwarf- or worse- he belched, smacked his lips, and commented, "...Not bad!"

Varel grunted. "Maker help us all..."

Evelyn couldn't stop her giggle this time, though she was able to smother it with the hand in place. Alistair grinned at Varel, and shrugged as if to say, _That's Oghren for ya._ Of _course_ he would be fine gulping down darkspawn blood.

Resuming his dury, Varel turned to Anders, offering the cup. "From this moment forth, Anders, you are a Grey Warden."

"So... we need to drink darkspawn blood? That's it...?" Anders asked tentatively, his voice soft with wonder. Was this really the secret of the order? Was this what Lynnie had to go through?

"That is it, yes," Varel confirmed, watching him expectantly. Evelyn was regarding him strangely, too, though Anders couldn't confirm exactly what it was she was thinking. Fear? Pride?

"Well all right, but if I wake up in two weeks from now on a ship bound for Rivain in nothing but my smallclothes and a tattoo on my forehead, I'm blaming _you_," he warned jokingly, before staring down at the goblet in his hands. _Euuuugh_.

"Speaking from experience, are we?" Loghain asked rhetorically. Fortunately, Anders already had the cup to his mouth and was taking his sip, and couldn't reply.

The liquid burned in his mouth, down his throat, and as it burned, it spread. His fingers had gone numb at the same instant that Varel took the goblet from him, and he felt everything inside him curling away from the sensation, the concoction changing him, eating away at him, dissolving him- and suddenly, it abated. Ache numbed out the burning, and suddenly his head filled with images, sights that froze his blood, an awareness of the people standing around him on a completely different level- he sensed the presence of the Grey Wardens more sharply, even as the rest blurred away. Suddenly, his vision fell to black, his head swam, and he collapsed back against the carpet.

Varel knelt beside him, checking his vitals. He then smiled to Evelyn. "He lives, Commander, and will awaken in time."

"Thank the Maker," she whispered in response, audible only to Alistair. Her hand gripped his all the more tightly now. She didn't even feel the tear that escaped, the one born in the fear of losing Anders again.

Finally Varel addressed Mhairi, who accepted the cup both eagerly and hesitantly. "From this moment forth, Mhairi, you are a Grey Warden."

"I have awaited this moment!" She breathed out excitedly, lifting the cup to her lips.

The relief on Evelyn's face at Anders' survival crumbled as Mhairi began sputtering, coughing. The burning did not abate for her; instead, she fell to her knees, writhing and convulsing. Air never returned to her lungs, no matter how she gasped. Finally, she fell, completely still.

"I am sorry, Mhairi." Varel shook his head sadly. "May the Maker watch over you-"

"No!" Evelyn cried, startling the others. She started forward, stopped only by Alistair's continued grip on her hand. She reeled on him, tears in her eyes. "No, she can't be...!"

"Evelyn, I'm sorry..." Alistair tried to pull her back again, but she threw him off.

"I refuse to accept that!" Evelyn went to Mhairi's side, turning the young woman over to her back, putting her hand over the still chest. "There has to be some way...!"

Her hand trembled as she tried to summon the magic of Creation, of healing, into the body already being torn apart from the inside by the darkspawn taint. When that failed, she called out to the Fade, trying to pull a spirit of compassion close enough to help her... but none answered her call. Choking on a sob, Evelyn tried pumping spirit energy directly into Mhairi's corpse, causing it to shiver fruitlessly.

Suddenly, Alistair's arms were around her, his hand caught up in her hair, and he was murmuring calm words into her ear, warm and gentle, but the guilt tightened its jaws around her heart and she tried again and again. Clenching Evelyn tightly to him, Alistair turned inward, channeling the energy from his spirit that he knew would momentarily nullify her magic, and let it consume the two of them.

When her magic no longer flowed from her fingertips, Evelyn rounded on Alistair, beating at his chest. "How could you do that! She needs help, we can't just let her die, and I'm the only one who can-"

"Beloved, _please_," he implored. She went limp against him, her forehead against his shoulder, her palms over his heart and his shoulder.

"...She's dead," she finally admitted. "She's dead, and it's my fault. Again. More people have died because of me, Alistair. She's _dead_."

Varel stared in shock at the display, not having expected the woman that had so confidently dispatched the darkspawn responsible for holding him captive to be so broken, so easily. Still, her words struck home; he'd repeated that same litany to himself after Ostagar. He'd survived, but so many of his men hadn't. As Loghain moved into his field of vision, his sympathy turned to ash.

"Evelyn." One word from Loghain was still enough to command her attention, and she looked up at him blankly. "This was her choice, not yours."

"She didn't know it would be-"

"She knew the risks. She knew there was a chance she might die," Loghain insisted firmly. "Do not take her death onto your shoulders. You cannot. There is already much being carried there."

Her eyes fell to the floor, and she let Alistair hold her for a moment. Despite her grief, she was being held together, though barely. She finally looked back to Mhairi, at her prone form. Then, gently, shaking, she reached out and closed the woman's eyes for her.

-xxx-

"So, any news from Gwaren?"

Seated at the dining hall table he'd momentarily turned into his work space, until he had a proper office to work from, Loghain found his concentration broken by the silky sweet tone of none other than the red-headed arlessa. Glowering at her, he replied, "None here, no. The last I heard from the Teyrna was before I left Soldier's Peak."

"Oh, that's a shame. You missed some big news; apparently, she's been seeing an influx of suitors, especially now that rumors have been going around that she is available." Siobhan grinned. "Yet, in true Rhiannon fashion, my sister refuses every last one of them flatly."

"A shame," Loghain grunted, shuffling to the next page in the reports from Soldier's Peak regarding Levi's merchandise getting a boost from trade finally opening up.

"Isn't it, though?" Siobhan strutted around behind Loghain, putting both hands behind her head. "I always pictured her finding someone by now. I mean, the girl is like expecting a succulent cherry and finding yourself chewing on a barb beneath the sweet, juicy flesh, but she's still a girl who responds well to a loving environment."

"Is that so." It wasn't a question.

"Oh yeah! Poor dear, though, she's been feeling very alone down that way. She's doing quite well, all things considered, and many people have been saying that it's like you've never left- not surprising. You remind me a lot of her. Well, sort of. The sullen, gloomy, brooding atmosphere that follows you both around. And the tendency to demand that everyone else do what you tell them to." Siobhan paced around the edge of the table, now coming into his field of vision. "She's not a fifty-something old man, for one. She's also capable of smiling once in a while, for another."

He didn't respond, shifting the pages again. Ah, look, the Grey Wardens that they'd been training were being sent to Vigil's Keep. They would arrive within...the month? His eyes narrowed at the paper, as though blaming the parchment for the delay of his-well, Evelyn's- men. What could possibly be keeping them?

"But it's so nice to hear from my sister again," Siobhan sighed, her arms dropping again. "I thought she was dead for the longest time, you know. The better part of a year."

"I recall."

"Oh yeah, you were there, weren't you?" She grinned. "Sorry. But yeah, she thought _I_ was dead, too. She and Fergus were very happy to learn otherwise. And Fergus was so mad at you, remember?"

"I believe he told me so, yes." _The words 'traitor' and 'betrayer' and 'How could you have taken Howe to your bosom like that' come to mind..._

"Thankfully, he wasn't able to actually _hit_ you."

"No," he agreed.

Siobhan sat down across from him, staring at him over the letter he was currently poring over. Indeed, he didn't notice at first, more irritated at the excuses that "moving a large army is difficult" and "resources are light" and how they "should be lucky to make it there before winter sets in". He glanced up briefly, and caught the green eyes trying to stab at him through the paper, and scowled.

"What."

"You're not curious to know anything about her?"

"Her- your sister," he realized, before sighing. "You do realize I am _occupied_ at the moment, arlessa? Especially with the Commander out of commission for the time being, I have to address the business of the Grey Wardens in her stead."

"I know," and Siobhan did. She hadn't been there when Evelyn had broken down, but hearing about it later, she remembered seeing her like that before. After everything she'd been through during the Blight, the young girl tended to take everything to heart far too easily. "And I'm so glad she has Alistair there with her right now."

"Yes."

Siobhan raised an eyebrow. "You're not jealous that you can't be the one to console her, are you?"

At that, Loghain dropped the letter back on the table, and folded his hands in front of his face, glaring at Siobhan with enough ice to freeze a lake. "Are you quite finished trying to play a game with me, little girl? Or do you need me to tell you to find something better to do with your time?"

"I'm bored, Loghain!" She declared, sighing. "I never thought I'd see the day when spending time in the company of the Grey Wardens was going to bore me to _tears_! Never mind that you're just _sitting_ there, and you haven't even gotten back to my sister in over two weeks, and she's starting to get edgy!"

"I didn't realize she needed my advice at least once a week," he replied, resuming his work.

"Not your _advice_. She just likes-"

"Please excuse the intrusion," a voice called from the entry into the dining hall. Both Loghain and Siobhan turned irritated expressions on the guard, who nearly quailed in fright to see them. "But I was sent to speak with the Warden-Commander about important keep business."

Loghain stood, and as he approached the guard, the latter was startled to realize how much taller the man was. "At the moment, the Commander is taking a much-needed rest. What business do you want to bother her with?"

"Th-there's a prisoner that was put in the jail shortly before the attack on the keep," the guard stammered in reply. "He has yet to be sentenced, and the Seneschal feels that the Commander should be the one to do it, b-because she is effectively the arlessa for-"

"I see." Loghain had no interest in hearing about the politics. "What is the prisoner guilty of?"

"He broke into Vigil's Keep, tried to steal some priceless items, and was caught. It took at least four guards to capture him, and even then, he'd already killed several men in the burglary!" The guard chuckled awkwardly. "He was even trying to claim that they rightfully belonged to him, like thieves would ever _own_ anything in a place like this!"

"Were you able to get a name from him?" Siobhan asked, coming up alongside Loghain.

"H-he claimed to be Nathaniel Howe, arlessa."

Loghain started, straightening in posture, and glanced to Siobhan, who bore a dark look completely unlike the cheerful, friendly young woman from moments before. Even the guard lost his power of speech.

"...I think Kiddo might want to be involved in this, after all."

-xxx-

The eastern window let the warmth of the morning sun into the room, giving the bedchamber a golden cast. Resting peacefully in the bed, wrapped in warm cotton against the early chill, Anders was blissfully unaware of the guest watching over him in his slumber. His early rest had been fitful, of course, chased by nightmares and monsters he'd never even imagined could exist. As the small hours of the morning grew longer, however, he'd settled into much more peaceful dreams; memories, truth be told. Memories of a time when, while he was never _innocent_, he'd been a kinder person.

Memories of Lynnie, smiling at him from her familiar chair in the library. Excitedly running up to him, telling him the results of her latest experiment with magic. Greeting him with tears in her eyes because, yet again, she was made to feel alone.

As he stirred from the depths of his dreams, he felt the presence at long last. Even without the new ache of the darkspawn taint in his very blood, he knew who it was; Lynnie. He knew her magical signature- quiet and understated, calm but masking a veritable ocean of power. Even before opening his eyes, he smiled.

"You know, most people consider it rude to watch someone while they sleep," he commented, stretching to get the blood back into his limbs.

"Since when have you ever been concerned about propriety?" She teased lightly, but the edge of grief in her voice prompted him to open his eyes to behold her properly.

Immediately, he could tell she'd gotten no sleep. Her hair remained bedraggled from her exploits the night before, the dark bruising under her eyes had deepened, and her eyes lacked all luster. That she was still seated with her back straight and her hands neatly folded in her lap spoke more to habit than energy. She smiled to see him, but it was hollow and wan.

"Don't tell me you've been here all night," he complained, scooting to sit upright, propped against the pillow he'd been resting on. He blinked rapidly to try and clear his eyes, massaging them with his thumb and index finger.

"Fine, I won't tell you, then," she sighed. Her smile came back, though. "Actually, I had plenty of other business that I also tended to this morning. But I... I wanted to be here when you awoke."

"That's awful nice of you, Lynnie, but I'm a big boy; I promise I can handle myse-why am I naked?" He looked down with surprise, grateful for the blanket he hadn't simply tossed aside.

"Well, at least you're not on a ship bound for Rivain with a tattoo on your forehead," she giggled softly. "I wasn't the one who stripped you, if that's your concern. I believe the excuse was that the robes you were wearing were in dire need of cleaning- which I agreed with- though I suppose the prospect of getting a handsome young man out of his clothing excited some of the ladies." She grinned. "Especially the ladies you helped to escape the darkspawn."

He matched her grin. "I suppose it's too much to hope for that you were among the excited ladies?"

The mirth drained from her expression. After a moment, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

Ah, right. Not the best joke to make with her. "You mean the mother of all hangovers, and the feeling like someone scraped out the inside of my bones?" He paused. "I've felt worse."

That brought the ghost of a smile back to her face, at least. "I know it's tough. For today, you can take the time to rest and relax all you like. There should be some fresh food prepared in an hour or so, and your robes will be back to you momentarily; last I heard, they were just drying them."

"Well! If I'd known I'd be getting the celebrity treatment around here, I'd have joined up with the Grey Wardens sooner!" Anders beamed. "I could get used to this!"

"Oh, don't worry about getting used to this," She shook her head, now smirking. "I just have no desire to put anyone through the ringer immediately after joining. I learned the hard way just how difficult it is to get back on your feet afterwards." Her eyes darkened as she looked to the floor, memories of the night of her Joining flickering in the back of her mind. "I'd much rather you have the chance to get more accustomed to the changes... _then_ put you through every trial and tribulation in the book."

He grinned, waiting for her to smile in return, before sitting more upright when she didn't. "You're... serious?"

"Oh yes," she nodded solemnly. "If not for me, Loghain would be putting you through even more extensive training, likely even later today. But then, the man is built like a horse and was going about taking up arms against darkspawn within a few hours of having awoken after _his_ Joining, so I suspect he doesn't understand how it might take someone else some time to adjust." She smiled thoughtfully. "No, I insist that everyone get at least one day, more or less, to settle into their skin again, before we start the training."

"What's there to train?" Anders tilted his head, peering at Evelyn. "I know how to do the magic thing- rather well, if I say so myself- and I've had more practical application of my skills than most mages do in all their years of theory and study in the Circle."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, if I didn't think you could do this, I wouldn't have recruited you. I would have found some other way to handle the templars." Now that her grin was back, Anders regretted having hoped to see it. "But you're nowhere near where I want my Wardens to be at, in terms of training and ability. We're going to push you until you're going to want to kill us."

"Lynnie, you're not making the case for me sticking around after my day of rest," Anders warned, drawing up his blanket all the more around him.

At that, she scowled in a rather striking impersonation of Loghain. She stood, and loomed over him- something Anders had never believed the small woman capable of in her life, yet here she was. "I want you sharper and more honed than the most finely crafted blade in all of Thedas. I want you stronger than you've ever been. I want you to be on par with the level I expect out of every Grey Warden."

Just as Anders started to lean away, terrified at the intensity in her gaze, her hand went to his cheek, and deep melancholy pierced through her stalwart gaze. "Because I will not lose anyone else. I will not lose _you_."

Transfixed on her, Anders felt uncomfortably bound by her words. At the same time that her sincerity and her fears touched a part of him he'd believed long dead, the bindings of responsibility, of duty, of obligation, set off every alarm in his head. Yet, with her so close, so adamant on keeping him near, and in such a contrast with the fluttering, fragile Lynnie of the past, he couldn't stop his face from burning at her... _possessiveness_? Was she really claiming him, or did he only wish it were so?

He pressed his hand over hers, smiling up at her. "You won't," he promised.


	8. Chapter 8: Uncomfortable Revelations

For What Binds Us  
_Chapter Eight: Uncomfortable Revelations_

The moment Evelyn had left Anders to curl up back under his blanket for more sleep- which he'd done rather abruptly, thanking her and dismissing her in the same breath- she'd been grabbed by the arm by a rather fire-eyed Siobhan, who demanded that she come with her immediately. Of course, Evelyn had protested.

"Siobhan, I love you like the dearest of sisters," she'd said softly as Loghain finally caught up with the arlessa, "But I have to prepare for a trip to Amaranthine, as I promised our dear Queen."

"This is _important_," Siobhan had insisted. "I would make the decision for you, but the political maelstrom around one arlessa making official decisions regarding the estate of another arlessa- and don't give me that look, Varel told you that's what you effectively are- would be disastrous. So you're coming now and taking care of this. _Now_."

"What could be so important that you feel it overrides our responsibility to the throne?" Given Siobhan's political savvy, Evelyn had been surprised that she would insist on denying Anora- no matter their shared opinion on the lady.

Siobhan's eyes had narrowed, and through gritted teeth, she growled one word. "..._Howe._"

That had been enough to pique Evelyn's curiosity. Siobhan had good reason to speak the name with loathing; her family had been shattered for their trust in Arl Rendon Howe, broken and scattered across Ferelden when he betrayed them. Her parents had been killed at the hands of his men, and she and her sister had escaped only by virtue of their talents at passing through the shadows. When Evelyn and Siobhan had encountered the man at Eamon's estate, crowned with titles he had no business possessing, Siobhan had nearly killed him on the spot.

Instead, it had been while 'rescuing' Anora from imprisonment in the Denerim estate that a confrontation between Siobhan and Rendon ended with his death. Evelyn shuddered to recall the final moments of that fight; Siobhan, blood splattered across her face and darkening against her curls, looming over a fallen Rendon with a twisted, manic, killer look in her eyes.

"I... deserved... _more_...!" Howe had spat at her fiercely. At that, Siobhan's blade pierced straight through his heart, clanking against stone.

"The Void take you and your kin, Howe! _You deserve no less_!" She'd hissed wildly, spit spraying from between her teeth.

Yet, even with vengeance satisfied, the name seemed destined to haunt the Couslands still.

"Ah, Commander! Good thing you're here!" The cell guard greeted Evelyn with a salute, along with her three companions, as soon as he caught sight of them. Evelyn nodded curtly to him, and followed him over to the cell in question.

"This one's been locked up three nights now," the guard continued, shaking his head in reprobation. "Good men died while he was kept safe behind these bars."

Behind the Commander, her entourage shifted uncomfortably. Naturally, Siobhan had joined Evelyn, eager to see justice handed to this offspring of the one who'd destroyed her family. Loghain had come along at his own insistence, more concerned with making sure that these young women didn't make any rash decisions about their prisoner. And of course, a bit perturbed at having his daily regimen of morning meditation interrupted by Siobhan having slammed doors in her search for Evelyn, Alistair had been swept up into the party, too.

In the cell before Evelyn, a young man sat against the wall, legs stretched in front of him in a languid pose of indifference. The shadows of the cell fell over his face, but the pale blue-grey of his eyes caught the barest glimmer of light, and stared icily back out at them. Evelyn hadn't been sure what she expected upon hearing the name "Howe" attached to this prisoner, but something felt off about the picture. She was determined to set it straight again.

"Thank you. Please go inform Seneschal Varel that we have come; he'll want to know my decision regarding this prisoner, I imagine," Evelyn ordered.

"Yes, of course, ma'am!" The guard bowed, smiling, before hurrying off to his task.

As soon as the guard was gone, Evelyn stepped forward to the door to the cell, regarding the man inside with such an enigmatic look, even he seemed unsettled. Siobhan started towards them both, but Loghain's arm caught her. One glance at his stoic expression stopped Siobhan's angry protest- until she heard the latch on the door open at Evelyn's behest.

"What are you doing?" Siobhan cried.

The man drew himself up slowly, watching Evelyn as she stepped into the cell. While he towered over her easily, he still seemed at a slight disadvantage to the calm, collected young woman. When he spoke, venom dripped from every word. "If it isn't the great hero, conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil." He smirked, bending slightly down towards her. "Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall, with lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes?"

"I see you have me confused with Loghain," she replied with a grin, ignoring the faint groan from her general. "I suppose there _is_ some overlap, but while I have the lightning bolts, he's got the height."

The man frowned. "Was that how you did it, then?" His voice turned to ice. "Was that how you murdered my father? Your magic?"

Before Evelyn could even respond, Siobhan was already in the cell, the dagger she kept strapped to her arm at all times pressed against the man's neck. "No. That _refuse_ was disposed of by _me_."

"Woah, woah!" Alistair cried. Both Alistair and Loghain surged into the cell as well, though they hesitated to grab ahold of the redhead- trying to remove her might only make things worse.

"_You_!?" The man cried, rage flashing across his features. "I'd heard it was the Hero of Ferelden who took his life, slaughtered him in his own home!"

"I slaughtered him in the Arl of Denerim's estate, which- as my investigation into the matter later proved- he procured through illicit means," Siobhan snarled. "And he deserved it, after what he did to my family!"

"I'm sure many people feel that my father betrayed them, when the Hero of Ferelden spread _her_ version of events. After all, that's what heroes are; the ones who got to tell their story," the man dismissed, glaring petulantly at Siobhan.

"Do you even know who I am, _Nathaniel_?" She pressed the dagger closer, just shy of drawing blood, a serene look of murderous intent on her face.

"An opportunistic noble clawing her way into the good favor of people far more important than she is?" He sneered.

"We never met, you and I. You were already in the Free Marches when I came of age to be formally introduced to Court." Despite the anger vibrating in her bones, she managed to keep her blade steady. "But I knew of you. Son of the man my father trusted, the one he was so deeply ashamed of, he never mentioned you unless _reminded_ of your existence. He chatted endlessly about Delilah, and kept trying to convince my father to marry me to Thomas, but never once were _you_ considered eligible enough for deepening the alliance between our families."

Recognition slackened his features, even as anger and humiliation flushed his cheeks. "I should have known you were a Cousland. You stink of self-righteousness."

"And you are a Howe, about to share in his father's _fate_!" Siobhan roared, tensing to strike.

Before she could drag the blade across his throat in a violent slice, Siobhan found herself ripped away from the prisoner, her arms locked in Alistair's grip, and she snarled in anger. Before she could retort at Alistair, Evelyn put her hand on Siobhan's shoulder, a gesture that calmed her in an instant. "No, my friend. That is beneath you, and this is _my_ prisoner."

"That this _viper_ is my father's executioner...!" Nathaniel snapped after her, held back by Evelyn coming to stand between them.

"Tell me, Nathaniel..." Her voice cool, calm, and quiet, yet impossible to ignore, Evelyn pulled his attention away from Siobhan and back to herself. The fire of his gaze clashed with the watery serenity of hers, and was doused into an unsettled hesitation. "You came to this keep looking for something, correct? Family, perhaps? Or the reminders of one? The guards say you stated you were only reclaiming what was rightfully yours."

His eyes narrowed, but the flames did not rekindle. "I came to try and kill you, _Hero of Ferelden_," he sneered, "But seeing my home, decorated with unfamiliar banners, filled with unfamiliar people... I decided it wouldn't be worth trying to snuff out your insignificant life. I only wanted the things most precious to me. Then I would have been off to try and reinstate the Howes in good society- if such a thing were possible."

"Killing me, or Siobhan, for that matter, wouldn't help you to do that," Evelyn stated matter-of-factly. While the corners of her mouth never shifted, her eyes reflected amiability. "I know what it's like to lose everything, and to try to cling to what few remnants are left."

He scoffed. "What would _you_ know? You're the _Hero_, you're the one everyone speaks of glowingly and with such clear love, it would sicken any sane man."

"Why am I not surprised that Howe's offspring would be so wrapped in his own suffering and loss, he would mock what he does not know?" Loghain rumbled from behind Evelyn, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Oh yeah, you'd know nothing about draping yourself in self-righteousness to the detriment of others, Loghain," Alistair commented, still holding Siobhan from advancing on the Howe.

"Hush," Loghain commanded idly, refusing to engage with that old argument.

"I don't understand why you're bothering talking to him, Evelyn!" Unable to free herself from Alistair's grasp, Siobhan tried pleading with Evelyn instead. "He's a _Howe_. He's already convinced that we murdered an innocent man! He doesn't even care what his father did to my family!"

"And look at what has happened to both of our families. The Couslands control both major Teyrnirs _and_ the city of Denerim, and the Howes are banished from their own arling, disgraced," Nathaniel jeered. "Oh yes, I can see what horrible things my father has done to _your_ family!"

"He _betrayed_ us!" Siobhan shrieked in fury. "He _used_ my father's trust to kill him! To kill my mother! To kill Oriana, to kill my _nephew_! A _child_!" At this, tears streamed down her pallid face as the memories flashed across her vision. "And after all that, his dying words were about how he deserved _more_! My father would have given him everything, and often did, but that wasn't _good enough_ for him!"

For the first part of Siobhan's outcry, a hateful retort waited on the tip of Nathaniel's tongue. As she dissolved into her grief, however, he found the willpower to stave it off, frowning instead. Alistair's hold on Siobhan became the support to keep her from collapsing as her hands went to her face.

"To compare the fate of your families is unfair," Evelyn insisted. "There is tragedy on both sides, but your father perpetrated great evil. What the Couslands have now is irrelevant to what your father took from them."

"Perhaps my father had good reason for rooting out a family so mired in their self-righteousness," Nathaniel suggested, his eyes glittering with hatred. "Maybe he saw in them what everyone else refuses to see; the backstabbing traitors to Ferelden my father always said they were!"

"You mean the supposed conspiracy to overthrow Ferelden by allying themselves with Orlesian forces?" Loghain asked plainly, his eyebrow raised. At Nathaniel's shock, Loghain smirked. "Yes, your father had the papers proving correspondence with the nobility of Orlais, speaking of friendship and alliances and letting the past be buried. Such words unsettled me then; I had not cared for Bryce's willingness to forgive and forget what had so ravaged Ferelden not so long ago."

Loghain's eyes darkened, and Nathaniel found himself edging backwards at the shift. "But, like everything else that came from Rendon's mouth, it was poison meant to confuse and obfuscate the truth. I knew that even as blinded as I'd been by my own fears."

Alistair gave a faint roll of his eyes. "This was during that stage of Loghain's life when he believed the Grey Wardens were his enemies and a man so blatantly evil he was practically a caricature of villainy was his ally. It was a strange time for Loghain."

"Was that also the time you had taken it upon yourself to trek through the mountains to an obscure village to try and find an ancient holy artifact, all on the premise of it _possibly_ curing a man from his coma? Meanwhile, the Blight continued destroying the country you presumed to protect, and the Grey Wardens were _fighting dragons_." Loghain shook his head. "Strange times, indeed."

"We wouldn't have had to if you hadn't-"

"_Gentlemen!_" Evelyn scolded, and both men stopped in their tracks. The small woman's glare had been icy enough to startle even Loghain; coupled with her obvious exhaustion and thinning patience, her anger had an unnatural bent to it. She resumed her attention on Nathaniel.

"There is much you do not know, Nathaniel. Given time, I would gladly explain all I know. Given the power, I would work to separate your father's evil deeds from the rest of his family." She sighed, and shook her head. "As it stands, I can only offer you one last choice in your fate."

"I see," Nathaniel nodded gravely. "I cannot fault you for your decision. Politics being what they are."

Evelyn regarded him quietly as Varel and the guard returned. Even now, as Nathaniel tried to cast all of his hatred at the woman who held the reigns of his life in her hands, to curse her as she and her bosom friends had cursed his family, he felt the edge of his anger drop away from him. There was no malice in her gaze, no mockery; in fact, he saw deep sorrow, a melancholy he'd seen in his father's eyes so many times whenever he discussed his participation in the rebellion.

"So, have you come to a decision regarding the prisoner?" Varel tried to maintain his professional demeanor, but even he couldn't wait to hear what the Commander had in store for a man so clearly mistaken and foolish to have attacked Vigil's Keep.

"Yes, I have," Evelyn affirmed, and _now_ a smile crept onto her features. While the others waited for her to call for his execution, both Loghain and Alistair wore an uncertain expression- especially if she was _smiling_ like that.

"I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription."

"You... you what?" Nathaniel asked blankly.

"The choice is, in fact, yours," Evelyn amended, folding her fingers thoughtfully. "But I do not sense any reason to condemn you to death, nor am I compelled to let a man who wishes both me and my friends dead to walk free. Instead, I extend to you the chance to set things right; both for yourself and your family." She leaned closer to him, startling him from his empty shock. "Prove us wrong about the Howe line."

His eyes narrowing, Nathaniel remarked, "I question the wisdom of recruiting someone who wanted you dead."

"It's a bad habit of mine." Evelyn grinned, and while her gaze never left to imply her company, the corner of Loghain's mouth twitched up.

"Are you certain, Commander?" Varel asked cautiously, glancing to Nathaniel. "He has already stated his intent towards you. I would advise against this."

"I appreciate your candor, Varel, as much as I do your concern for my well-being, but I stand by my decision." Evelyn grinned. Then, shocking her company, she reached out with one hand to pinch Nathaniel's cheeks inward, pouting his lips for him. He squawked, but didn't pull away immediately. "See? If he _really_ hated me, he could have gutted me by now with that dagger you missed while stripping him."

At her revelation, the effect was galvanizing on the others (outside of Loghain, whose arms crossed thoughtfully). Siobhan straightened, eyes wide in alarm, Alistair had released the former numbly at the thought of Evelyn skirting danger like that, Varel's hand went to the hilt of his sword, and even Nathaniel finally yanked away from Evelyn.

"He has a _dagger_?" Siobhan demanded, growling. "He could have-"

"Yes, exactly. He _could_ have, at any time, used that dagger on any of us," Evelyn beamed, still keeping her eyes on Nathaniel. "He chose to hear us out, instead. My decision has been made; what say you, Howe?"

After a moment of considering, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I would be forced to serve you, or die? This is the choice you leave at my feet?"

"Pretty much," Evelyn agreed, shrugging faintly. "But I'm not trying to ultimate you. I'm trying to give you an option."

"I suppose that I shall be suffering your self-righteousness, then," he groused. "I have little option. So long as I needn't put up with _her_, as well," he pointed to Siobhan for emphasis, "This may work out better than I expect."

"So help me, Howe-" Siobhan started.

"Excellent!" Evelyn chirped, grinning at a chagrined Varel. "Proceed with the preparations for a Joining, Seneschal."

-xxx-

"So, what's going on here, then?"

Hovering in the hallway just outside the Great Hall of the keep, Siobhan was startled from her thoughts by a rather cheerful interruption. Looking up from the floor, she met the gaze of that blonde mage Evelyn had swept up into her order. With freshly cleaned robes and a morning of pampering behind him, he'd polished up handsomely- which, considering he came in quite the charmer, was an accomplishment.

"You know when they made you take a drink from that big cup?" She asked, mostly rhetorically. He nodded faintly, and started to reply, but she cut him off to say, "They're doing it again, this time with someone else."

"Oh." Anders glanced towards the door, which remained closed for the time being, then back to Siobhan. "Who did they manage to corral into the Order, now?"

A dark, ill cloud fell over Siobhan, and her gaze went sidelong. "A prisoner. He broke into the keep before the attack, and because he's apparently very resilient, Kiddo decided to ignore his heritage and recruit him."

"I see that Lynnie's penchant for sympathizing with individuals who don't deserve it hasn't gone anywhere," he sighed, stretching his arms and placing his hands on the back of his neck in a lazy gesture.

"'Lynnie', huh?" At this, Siobhan's attention snapped back to the present, her eyes glinting with interest. "She seems to collect nicknames the way my mother used to collect love tokens from would-be suitors. But I've only heard one other person refer to her as 'Lynnie'."

"Oh?" This perked Anders' interest. He'd been the one to start calling her 'Lynnie' in the first place. But there'd been another friend who'd taken on the nickname for her. "And just where did you run into this person?"

"I'm guessing that Kiddo hasn't had the opportunity to catch you up to date on everything yet," Siobhan gathered from his response. "It was another friend of hers from the tower, a whiny little git named Jowan. We ran into him in Redcliffe."

"Jowan...?" He asked distantly, frowning. "By Andraste's Molten Lips, how did he manage to make it all the way to Redcliffe?"

"_Apparently_, he was hired by a certain Pain-In-The-Arlessa to tutor her mageling son, all so she could prevent the templars from escorting him to the tower," Siobhan grumped, missing the sharp, stunned look that crossed Anders' face. "That woman had no common sense, and that mage git was incompetent, and between the two of them, they managed to ruin that poor little boy's life."

"Because sending him to the tower wouldn't have been devastating or ruinous to that 'poor boy'?" Anders asked caustically, pulling Siobhan's attention back to him in surprise. "Tell me, how well do you even know Lynnie, that you would think that sending him off to the Circle was the better option?"

Siobhan's eyes glittered with frost. "That boy became subject to demonic possession and slaughtered nearly everyone in Redcliffe, all because his mother thought that your apostate friend was a better idea than sending him where he could get guidance and a proper education. And believe me, after what she went through cleaning up that mess, Kiddo would agree with me."

"He... _what_?" He remarked, astonished.

Siobhan clenched her fists, reeling her temper back in. "I... Kiddo told me about what happened to her in the tower. _All_ of it. Even before the disastrous 'uprising' of Uldred's, the circle tower was always going to be unfit for most standards. But at least he would have had supervision, guidance, education."

"I can't fault a mother for protecting her child from being imprisoned," Anders remarked, though much of the bite had left his tone. He conveniently left out his jealousy that while he'd been almost gleefully ripped from his mother's arms, _this_ boy had been protected, held onto.

"Actually, knowing that insufferable woman as I do now, I'm fairly certain that embarrassment that her child was a mage was a bigger factor in her decision to hide him than any sort of desire to protect him." Siobhan sighed, and shrugged. "...Well, not _entirely_. But it was not any sort of noble intent that had her hire an apostate to tutor her son."

"You keep saying 'apostate' like it's some sort of curse," Anders pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "Do you really hold us in such contempt?"

"Not particularly; please forgive me if I came across that way," Siobhan held out one hand in a gesture of apology. "I've been accustomed to the vernacular of my upbringing for far longer than I have tempering my biases with knowledge." She smirked slightly. "Still, easier for me than it was for Alistair. He had to fall in _love_ with a mage before he said the word 'apostate' without lining the word with dread."

Anders' right eyebrow nearly shot into his hairline at that. "Now, why would _that_ be?"

Siobhan's head turned at the sound of a man falling to the carpet inside the Great Hall, and she listened for more; unfortunately, whatever Varel had to say was too faint for her to make out. She looked back to Anders with a grin. "I imagine that it was beaten into him during those years he spent at the monastary. Plus, you know, that creepy brainwashing thing they do with every templar- you know, according to him, they-"

"_Templar!?_" Anders' cry rang down the hall, and the intense stare he was giving Siobhan now managed to undo her nerves a bit. "That _man_ is a _templar_?"

"Well, more of a _former_ templar, and the way he explains it, he keeps the skills sharp because they're useful against darkspawn magic," Siobhan answered quickly.

Anders pressed his hand over his forehead, gritting his outrage and his frustration between his teeth as he suppressed further yelling. Finally, he said, "I can't believe that bloody idiot girl. She keeps going for a 'type', and it will always, _always_ backfire on her!"

Siobhan rested her hands on her hips, frowning. "I beg your pardon? Are you really condemning Alistair by virtue of his training?"

His hand snapped back down to his side and he growled at Siobhan, "No, I'm condemning the bastard by _virtue_ of him being exactly the worst thing in all of Thedas for Lynnie to get herself involved with! You said she told you _everything_, right? Did she conveniently leave out-"

The door to the Great Hall opened, revealing the three Grey Wardens, a somber expression on each of them. The Seneschal remained tending to the collapsed Nathaniel, whose chest still rose and fell with breath. As Anders swallowed his rage, Evelyn stepped close to him- and there he saw the glistening of leftover tears in her eyes.

"Anders, we need to have a word, you and I."


	9. Chapter 9: Disapproval

_For What Binds Us  
__Chapter Nine: Disapproval_

While the Warden-Commander and her immediate subordinates had kept themselves busy, many of the servants and guards still populating the keep had taken it upon themselves to clear out several of the offices that had still yet been strewn with the remains of the slaughter of the night before. When Alistair had asked in wonder why they'd done so even through the night, while many had slept, they'd smiled and said it was the least they could do for all the Wardens and their company had done for them. At the time, Alistair had been far too touched to negate their hard work; and besides, it meant that the Warden-Commander had her office available again.

Her office was lined with tall shelves, adorned with books, papers, and various paraphernalia from her travels. Lyrium crystals glowed within glass containers, potions of various mixes, and precious stones were mixed with the tokens sent to the Hero of Ferelden in gratitude for her service; three shelves were dedicated to the specially crafted daggers, letters of appreciation, and personal trinkets both fine and humble. And of course, once it got out that the Hero of Ferelden was inclined towards good literature, she'd seen an influx of books pulled from personal libraries.

There were three armor stands beside the large desk that dominated the back of the room, each adorned with robes she kept out of sentimentality: the golden robes Irving had given her following her Harrowing, that she'd worn through being recruited into the Grey Wardens; the intricate blue, silver, and black robes she'd discovered on her travels across Ferelden, enchanted to boost healing magic; and of course, the armored robes that Wade had crafted from the scales she'd brought back from Haven's 'Andraste', silver and shimmering, gleaming even in low light, the blue skirt of the robes still soft and warm to the touch.

It was here she lead Anders, leaving Alistair and Loghain to tend to her orders. Alistair had objected to such a private discussion- after all, it involved him too, didn't it?- but with a smile, she assured him to trust her skills as a leader.

"You know, I'm still trying to wrap my brain around all this," Anders remarked as he entered the room, staring at the assembled wonders. "_You_ have an office, an _official_ one. You're a big, important person now, aren't you, Lynnie?"

Evelyn breezed past Anders, going to stand by her desk. Her arms folded behind her back, and without turning to face him, she ordered, "Have a seat."

He pouted. "You're so impersonal! Am I really in trouble, then? Should I worry about being locked in solitary confinement again?"

At this, she turned only enough to let a sliver of the blue of her eyes enter his field of vision. The peripheral ice in her gaze was enough to stop him cold. "You are showing a lot of contempt for my position as Commander. I _suggest_ you reign that in, or we _will_ have to discuss punishment."

Anders' heart sank. For all of the backbone he was proud to see in her, what had happened to his gentle, kind Lynnie? The woman standing before her wasn't she; this was the Warden-Commander. His friend was nowhere to be seen.

"But you are not here to be punished, Anders." She sighed, her shoulders sinking. "I have neglected you, my friend, in favor of my responsibilities. For that, I apologize."

"I wouldn't say 'neglected', Lynnie," he shrugged." After all, you got me clean robes and a nice, warm, quiet place to sleep for the night. And a whopping headache to boot, but I don't hold that against you."

"But clearly, there is something I have yet to impart to you, something that eludes your grasp of understanding," she continued, turning towards him fully at last. "You don't seem to understand who Alistair is to me. Given his importance in my life, you cannot accuse him of being a mistake."

"You may recall, Lynnie, I never actually _called_ him a mistake," Anders pointed out. "I just heavily implied it."

The sympathy drained from her expression, which was enough to make him clear his throat and take the seat she offered him before. Her eyes closed as she waited for him to settle. "I love Alistair."

He didn't even bother masking his disapproval when it yanked one corner of his mouth up, wrinkling his nose. "Well, I could have guessed that from all I've seen."

A grin spilled over Evelyn's face. "No, you don't understand." Her eyes opened, and now they shone with the meaning of her words. "He is... _everything_ to me. If tomorrow, the sun rose and he was not at my side, I would have no dawn; there would be no light. When he suffers, I share his pain. We are inextricably linked, bound in fate, and were he to perish, my soul would go with him."

Over the sound of Evelyn's gushing, Anders slowly sunk into a glower, his arms folding over his chest. Yes, this was _exactly_ what he needed to hear. "Lynnie, I'm not stupid. I know you don't give your heart to someone easily. He would have had to do a lot to win your trust- especially being a _templar_."

"Surprisingly enough, I don't believe there was much struggle in coming to trust one another," Evelyn recalled thoughtfully. "His training never bothered me much, because of the way he looked at me; not like those in the tower did, their eyes full of judgment and caution, but with warmth and fellowship. I trusted him because, despite every reason he had for closing away from the world, he trusted me, too."

"Oh goodie. So he's not just a templar, he's one with trust issues, too. You're really selling the man for my approval, Lynnie." He held up one hand conversationally.

"Anders, sweetie, your approval of the man I love is irrelevant to my relationship with him," she smirked.

"Then why are you going to all the trouble to try and explain how you feel about him?" He leaned forward slightly. "You know exactly what I'm unhappy about- you seem to keep falling for the Holy Pain-In-The-Arse type, some big lug with a sword and a shield. Maker knows why you cling to _that_ fantasy ideal!"

"That attitude, right there, Anders, is precisely what I am trying to address." She leaned back against her desk, resting her palms on the top of it. "You seem to think that I care for Alistair because he fits a certain 'type' in my mind. You belittle both my love for him, and my love of Cullen. I know you never thought highly of him-"

"Lynnie, you have never made a greater understatement in your life."

"...But you also never knew why I cared for _him_, either," she finished, his interruption costing her good humor some. "Yes, some of it was girlish infatuation. A lot of it was seeing him through the shining eyes of youth and fantasy, wanting to be protected by a man who exemplified the fairytale books and legends. But there was so much more to how I felt; Cullen was so sweet, so gentle. He treated me like a lady, instead of like 'Just Another Mage'. You only ever saw him as one of our oppressors, but he worked so hard, even with his prejudices, to protect the _both_ of us when we got into trouble."

Anders kept his sharp tongue silent by clenching his jaw, wanting to say so many things but daring not.

"You do not know..." At this, her voice choked, and she averted her gaze. "...What Cullen meant to me. He was my protector, especially with you gone. He was my love, my light. He said much the same of me; he called me his Evening Star."

Frowning, Anders leaned forward slightly in his chair. "You mean to say that the two of you actually...?"

She giggled, though there was more than a hint of sorrow in the sigh that followed. "While we never frolicked through the tower in the way you are undoubtedly thinking, he and I pursued a brief, carefully chaste but still passionate romance. We could never be open about it, for obvious reasons."

He nodded thoughtfully. He was well-familiar with the restrictions put on mages when it came to their relationships, never mind a templar choosing to couple with one of their charges. "So you were able to work up the nerve to tell him how you felt."

At this, her gaze dropped to the floor. "You might find the irony in this, but it was because of you that Cullen and I came together."

His nose wrinkled. "Oh, _joy._"

"As you know, when you left, I was suspected of being in league with you and party to your escape. Well, Cullen came to me, to ask me how much I knew." At this, she left her spot by the desk, and paced a ways off. "I almost lied. I almost told them I helped you to escape. After all, you wouldn't have left when you did if not for me, no?"

His heart plunged into his stomach- both at the sad tone in which she spoke, and in memory of the night he finally broke free of Kinloch Hold.

"I blamed myself for that. I must have hurt you so badly..." She shook her head to dismiss the thought."When he asked, I didn't reply at first. And he pleaded with me, saying that if I didn't speak on my own behalf, they would assume guilt. That the Knight-Commander practically had the Tranquil brand ready for me as it was. When I remained reticent while I considered his words, he begged me further, saying he couldn't bear seeing me reduced to that, that I meant too much to him."

She grinned, a flash of her goofy charm peeking through. "I asked if he meant that. It lead to the two of us finally admitting how much we'd come to care for one another. So yes, indirectly, your disappearance brought us together."

He leaned back again, digesting the information. He recalled what had happened, how close he'd been to actually... no. As always, thinking of that moment brought a sharp pain to his heart, one he couldn't abide. That it had lead to the one man he couldn't have detested more finally winning Evelyn to his side only twisted the knife deeper.

She paced back to her desk, letting him contemplate the news. "We were pulled apart when Jowan pulled _his_ stunt, however. To be more accurate, I had to leave the tower after that; it was either be made Tranquil for my part in aiding Jowan's escape, or leave in the company of the Warden-Commander to join the Grey Wardens."

"And so, the path becomes clear," Anders remarked with wonder. He raised an eyebrow as another thought occurred to him. "Rather fortunate that the Commander was there, wasn't it?"

At that, Evelyn's hands clenched tight on the edge of her desk, and Anders nearly recoiled at the sudden anger that trembled in her features. When she spoke, her voice had a dark quality that seemed out of place for her. "_Yeeees_, how _fortunate_. It was almost as though it had been _planned_."

His head tilting, Anders crossed his arms. "You mean to imply that someone was actually behind such a lucky coincidence?"

She sighed, and with it, spent a good chunk of her anger. "I have nothing definitive, Anders, but with the way things unfolded, I suspect a great deal that my being recruited was, indeed, a plot of Irving's." Her hands released their grip on the desk, though were slow to pull from it. "He used Jowan and his frustration at not yet being called for his Harrowing, as well as his relationship with one of Greagoir's initiates, to concoct a plot that would not only indict a pawn of Greagoir's, but free his precious protégé from the confines of that tower. He signed the papers that would have made Jowan Tranquil just shortly before I was called for _my_ Harrowing, and left them in a place that Lily- the initiate- would have easily stumbled upon them. Naturally, she told Jowan, and they plotted an escape for him that included destroying his phylactery."

She looked up at Anders, who was watching her raptly. "They needed a Harrowed mage to be able to access the chamber, however. How _fortunate_ indeed that I'd just been through my Harrowing. They called on me, and foolish girl that I was, I wanted one of the few friends I had in the world to be happy, and chose to comply with their plan."

"The timing is very suspicious," Anders agreed. "But where does the plot to free _you_ come in? By all accounts, it sounds like someone was planning to have you forced into being Tranquil, not _free_ you."

"I was saved only by virtue of Duncan being at Kinloch Hold when all of this happened. Irving had personally sent a recommendation with the mages he'd already sent to Ostagar, suggesting me as a possible recruit for the Wardens." Her eyes turned to ice. "He signed the papers for Jowan to be Tranquil the same day he heard back that Duncan was coming. Irving concocted the whole affair to give me no option _but_ to be recruited!"

His eyes widened. "The rat bastard finally used that devious mind of his for some good. I never thought I'd see the day!"

"He _used my only friend_ to _force_ me into a life I never would have chosen for myself!" Evelyn cried, outraged. "He destroyed my trust in my friend, outed him as a blood mage, sent an innocent woman to Aeonar, and catapulted me from the only life I'd ever known all because he was a spiteful, vindictive old man who thought he knew what was best for me!"

Anders shrugged, his mouth curling in amusement. "You know I never liked the bastard. I knew it was only a matter of time before even you saw him for the lizard he was."

She grunted, halfway in disagreement, but unable to protest Anders' assessment of the First Enchanter wholeheartedly. "Ultimately, it was for the better. I joined the Grey Wardens, I found my purpose and my strength, and was able to use my talents to aid Ferelden in her time of need. I just... find it difficult to let go of that one last sliver of resentment for it never having been my _choice_."

"I know that feeling," Anders eyes narrowed slightly. "I guess it's the nature of being a mage that our choices are made _for_ us."

There was a pause as Evelyn considered his veiled accusation. "For having stripped you of one, I apologize. The only excuse I can offer is that I acted out of friendship, and that is a flimsy excuse in light of my own frustration just now."

"Bah, you didn't mastermind the knight-lieutenant being there to harass me- and if you had, then Lynnie, you are the most brilliant tactician in the history of all strategy- and I'd be stupid not to see that you were stepping in to protect me, not rob me of my choice." He smiled to see a trickle of relief in her otherwise tightened expression. "I may bellyache about the circumstances, but I'm not going to lay the blame at _your_ feet."

She nodded, then folded her arms. "Now, see, I believe we got a bit sidetracked from my point in pulling you in here, though I think it has been illustrated in a roundabout way. You have expressed your displeasure with Alistair, and with my choices in my love life in general. There are few things I will let get under my skin nowadays, but Alistair is my beloved, my dearest. It wounds me that someone who was so dear a friend to me speaks ill of the one who has my heart."

"I guess I just don't understand... Lynnie, why a _templar_?" He frowned. "After what they did to you..."

"I never fell in love with a _templar_, Anders. I fell in love with the men behind the shields... in both the literal and figurative sense." Oddly enough, she smiled at this. "Alistair is my friend, my companion. We were the last two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, facing a Blight completely alone and with very little idea of what we had to do to quell it. Through the darkness and strife, he came to be my refuge, my joy, my strength. And, for reasons I still struggle to understand, he fell in love with _me_. Despite how I treated..." She cut herself off abruptly, melancholy in her eyes.

Anders smirked. "A man would have to be absolutely insane not to fall in love with you, Lynnie. I knew that years ago."

The melancholy evaporated, replaced with hesitation and uncertainty. "I... would have to disagree."

"Because you feel obligated to?" He stood quickly. "Because you don't want to hear it? You always did shy away from the topic-"

She leaned slightly back from him as he stood."This is not a subject I'm comfortable discussing with you, for obvious reasons-"

"And why is that?" He stepped closer.

"I-I- Given our personal _history_-"

A rapping at the door cut through the thickening atmosphere in the office. Anders was now only inches from Evelyn, a far warmer look in his eyes than she was comfortable with. Using the break in his attention, she squirmed out from between Anders and her desk, and went to answer the knock.

Opening the door revealed the dour general of the Grey Wardens, regarding his commander with a raised eyebrow. "Greetings, Commander. Are you well? You seem a bit flushed."

"I..." With only a darting glance towards her blonde companion, she straightened. "I am fine. What brings you here now, Loghain?"

"My daughter has sent word, Commander. She wishes to know why you have not yet been to Amaranthine to see her. She asks if you expect her to return to the keep in order to resume your business." As high as his eyebrows had risen on his forehead, and the slow draw he had on his words, Evelyn suspected that Loghain was reciting the queen's orders out of duty, not out of sympathy with his daughter.

"Ah, yes. I have neglected our dear queen, haven't I?" She sighed, putting her hand to her forehead. Between the multiple Joining ceremonies, her anguish, and the workload piled on her just getting the Keep back in working order, she had sincerely forgotten her promise to go see the queen 'first thing in the morning'. "Very well. I shouldn't have any immediate business in the keep, so I shall be heading to Amaranthine within the hour, if not much sooner."

"Shall I be joining you then?" His tone suggested he believed it was a foregone conclusion.

"Actually, Loghain, I'd prefer you to remain here. The situation may have calmed down considerably around here, but things are still unstable. I can think of no better than you to keep any new developments from getting out of hand." Evelyn smiled sheepishly; she knew how little he enjoyed being told how good he is at 'keeping the lid on the pot'.

"I see." If he disapproved of her decision, he scant showed it. He looked past her, to an Anders that had finally straightened from where he'd bent over his old friend. "You do realize that I'll be putting your old friend to work in your absence, do you not?"

"What?" Anders startled. "Wait a minute, Lynnie said-"

"Actually, Loghain, I'm going to be taking him along with me." She smiled as shock registered on the general's face. "I'd like to present Anora with evidence of what has been keeping me busy this morning."

"... 'Keeping you busy', is he?" At this, his eyes narrowed on the new recruit.

Anders grinned brightly- _too_ brightly- and opened his mouth to reply. Instead, Evelyn broke in with, "Anders has always been a handful, so reigning him in _is_ a full-time job. Not a burden I would place on you before you've had the chance to get used to him."

"Ah." He watched Evelyn with an odd look, tilting his head faintly. "Will Alistair also be joining you?"

His meaning didn't escape her, and high color returned to her face. "Of course he is! Will be! You know that!"

He nodded, saying nothing further on the subject. "Are there any particular instructions for me in your absence, Commander?"

She closed her eyes and sighed again, glad that he pursued it no further. "No, Loghain. No further instructions."

"Then I wish you well on your trip. Be cautious; I have heard word of other treacherous conditions to be had on the way." He paused, then added, "And make it back soon."

"Thank you, Loghain." At this, she smiled up at the man, before turning back to her old friend. "Come along, Anders. We need to make preparations."

"My second audience with nobility in two days!" Anders remarked, strolling up along behind Evelyn with a smirk. "Sure beats being stuck in that jail cell all that time!"

"You say that _now_..." Evelyn shook her head.

"Bear in mind that you are speaking of my _daughter_, Evelyn," Loghain reminded her sternly.

"And our beloved queen and rightful monarch, yes," she agreed, though she smirked to do so. "Why, Loghain, I only meant that if he isn't careful with his sharp tongue, he might find himself right back in a jail cell again!"

"I'll be real good, Lynnie, I promise!" Anders swore in mock vehemence. "No backtalk, no smart-arse remarks, and certainly nothing about how she reminds me of Greagoir when she glares down her nose at you-"

"Indeed," Loghain interrupted curtly, giving a quick bow to his commander. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I have a pot about to boil over; the Howe should be rising soon. I left him in the exceedingly pleasant company of Denerim's Arlessa and your Second. I'm certain he shall be thrilled with these conditions, but perhaps it would be best if I were present, as well."

"Ah, good! While you're there, if you would tell both Alistair and Nathaniel to join me in the courtyard once they're ready, I would appreciate it." Evelyn stepped out of her office, putting her fingers to her lips thoughtfully.

"...And the Arlessa?" He inquired curiously.

"I believe she is more interested in helping the keep get back on its feet than she is spending further time draped in formality and etiquette, much less going back on the road." She grinned. "Plus, I believe she wishes to pester you more about her sister."

This was enough to finally roll his gaze to the ceiling, his head tilting back. He kept a groan from escaping, but only just so. "Of _course_ she does. Very well. I shall endure her unrelenting pestering in your absence, Commander, but I say this even more plainly; _do not tarry_."

"I do not plan to," she concurred. Catching the mischievous glint in Anders' eye, Evelyn reached up and snagged him by the collar, tugging him down her level as she marched down the hallway. "Come on, Kitty Boy, we have much to do."

"Aw, Lynnie, of all nicknames to bring back...!" Anders whined, though he didn't fight being yanked along behind her.

Watching them depart, Loghain couldn't keep one eyebrow from arching contemplatively. He kept his fears about history repeating itself from being voiced, and turned to resume his duties. But he wouldn't forget her flushed face when she opened the door... nor the look of lascivious intent in her fellow mage's eyes.


	10. Chapter 10: Breach of Protocol

For What Binds Us  
_Chapter Ten: Breach of Protocol_

"Ugh..." Nathaniel groaned softly, putting his hand to the side of his head. "So tell me, does the feeling of being horrendously hung over ever go away?"

"Apparently so, I've been feeling more myself for the last few hours," Anders replied. "Though it's hard to say if that's only because I have more experience than you recovering from nights spent in obscene excess."

"And how do you know I have not done much the same?" The dark-haired man asked, resuming his grasp of the reigns of his steed.

Anders laughed. "Just a guess. Then again, perhaps the stick up your arse is a _recent_ development."

Nathaniel had no reply to that, choosing instead to focus on following his new, completely unwanted commander. The four traveling companions had set out on horseback, equipped lightly for what was expected to be a short trip. With Evelyn and her Second-in-Command in the lead, that left the new recruits to tag along behind them, still disoriented and confused. Indeed, the newest member of the Order was struggling to keep his head from swimming as he rode, even now as they passed into the outskirts of the city. Small households fenced off from the road lined their vision, and the sight of the city at large looming had definitely pulled the senior wardens from their private conversation enough that they no longer leaned in towards one another.

"I still do not understand why I am being dragged along on this trip. I would prefer not having to be on the road so soon after such an... _experience_," Nathaniel grumped as he slouched faintly in his saddle.

"It's the same reason Lynnie's taking me along; to have proof and witnesses supporting that she has been busy this morning." Anders shrugged.

"Does the queen not assume that the Warden-Commander will be busy the day after darkspawn have nearly wiped out her entire order?"

"Apparently not. _Apparently_ the queen doesn't like when people have plans that do not involve her, and when she orders you to come see her, she expects punctuality." He snorted. "So Lynnie is expected to do both her job, _and_ defer to some royal bit-"

"Anders, leave the grousing about this trip to me," Evelyn warned, turning her head slightly in her seat to glance to him. "I tend to be more polite about it, and when it comes to our queen, proper etiquette is generally the way to go."

"So, you're preemptively telling me to shut up?" His nose wrinkled. "Why did you bring me along, then? Just to stand there and look pretty while you chat up the queen?"

Evelyn sighed. "Yes, Anders, that's _exactly_ why you're here. Shut up and look pretty, already. "

"So you think I'm pretty, do you?" He grinned.

"Yes, you're a pretty, pretty princess," Alistair replied, joining Evelyn in looking back at the blonde mage. "What with your hair so neatly tied up, your fabulous feathery pauldrons, and those lovely gold accents on your robes, we couldn't resist taking you along."

"You noticed!" Anders preened. "It's not as shiny as your special Grey Warden armors there, but I take pride in being irresistably handsome. Always have, haven't I, Lynnie?"

"That, and irrepressibly egotistical."

"Well, that, too. But I don't recall you complaining about that back in Kinloch Hold, either." Anders' grin expanded thricefold.

Alistair's hands clenched the reigns within them tightly, but he kept silent for now. Anders _had_ to be goading him. There was no chance in him having spoken of a past... _encounter_... with Evelyn. Could he? No- no. But the goading was still inappropriate.

"So, you were familiar with the Commander before she achieved her rank and status?" Nathaniel asked casually, sensing the rising tension.

"Oh yes. _Very_ familiar. We used to start every morning with a hug and a kiss, she would come to me all the time when she needed a snuggle-"

"I'm surprised that she would turn to _you_ for comfort. You do not seem to hold her feelings in high regard," Nathaniel cut him off, seeing Evelyn's posture tense.

Anders pouted at Nathaniel. "And what would _you_ know of the matter? If Lynnie has a problem with my joking around, she can certainly tell me so herself. Besides, I wasn't lying just now."

"You are misconstruing the actions of a naive young girl, and never mind that the environment in the tower is massively different from the culture outside of it," Evelyn pointed out tersely. "What was commonplace for us as mages is highly intimate behavior to most people, and you know this far better than I do. Nathaniel is right; if you have no regard for my feelings, then at least have some respect for my position as your commander before you speak."

"I... _Fine_, Lynnie." Anders couldn't bring himself to object. "I'll go back to shutting up and looking pretty, as per your orders, _Commander_."

"I'm not trying to-" Evelyn broke her own momentum with an exasperated sigh. "Very well. I am in no mood to assuage your pride."

"You could go back to calling me pretty, that would assuage my pride," he returned, now trying to mask his grin, mostly unsuccessfully. "Or I could start calling Alistair that, the way he's glaring at me now- would that make you happier? If I started detailing how you're pretty, too?"

Alistair scowled. "I don't think you should keep-"

"I mean, you complimented my hair before, but I like how you keep yours. Real neat and trimmed, very soldier-esque, but still stylish."

Blinking, Alistair felt his scowl melt away into a somewhat sheepish grin. "...Well, I do take some pride in..."He paused, then resumed his frowning. "Empty flattery only works so well."

"Just because it's flattery doesn't mean that it's empty!" Anders grinned. "I could keep going, if you like."

"Something about you looking for things to compliment about my fiancé is unsettling, Anders," Evelyn interrupted, though she was smiling now.

"Fiancé?" Nathaniel asked in shock. "Is it truly appropriate for a commander to be romantically involved with a subordinate?"

"As far as we've observed, it's not terribly common, but it's not against regulations, either," Evelyn shrugged. "Besides, I sincerely doubt even the First could dissuade us."

"There is no power short of the Maker that could dissuade us," Alistair added, beaming at his beloved. "And somehow, I suspect that if the First truly objected, he would shy in the face of contending with Evelyn's wrath."

"I pity anyone that would have to oppose her," Nathaniel agreed. "Perhaps not ten feet tall and firing lightning bolts, but even I must admit there is power in her dwarfish frame."

"_Dwarfish!?_" At that, Evelyn swerved her horse to block the entire entourage, scowling darkly at Nathaniel. "And what have I done or said to engender such insulting language from you, Nathaniel?"

"Outside of the business with my father?" He retorted, but recoiled a hair at her apparent anger. "I do not see the fault in comparing your shortness to that of a dwarf. You are barely taller than that crude oaf I've seen hanging about the keep-"

Nathaniel was cut off by a fierce slap across his cheek, startling him. In a moment's time, Evelyn had closed the distance between them on her horse, and now her sharp glare was barely a foot from him.

"Speak ill of me, and I will reprimand you. But do not dare presume to speak ill of my dear friend."

"The dwarf is- I see." Nathaniel rubbed his reddening cheek idly. "I apologize, then. I spoke out of turn."

"Yes, you did." Evelyn gave no leeway in her response. "I was feigning insult before. Do not give me reason to be genuinely insulted."

At that, she steered her horse back to the head and continued, the others following wordlessly. The mood had shifted considerably; while they each still carried the exhaustion and residual grumpiness of a night spent in poor rest, the two new recruits followed their new commander with their eyes as much as their rides.

-xxx-

"I see you have arrived safely, Warden-Commander. Did you meet any trouble on your way into the city?" Standing with full regality and every pretense of hospitality, the queen greeted Evelyn and her companions coolly but kindly. While lodging at the inn was fine and well enough for her escort, Anora found the clean and elegant Chantry much more appealing to her tastes. After setting up in the guest quarters, she'd settled in well enough to unpack a few of her belongings, and changed into a silken gown of soft gold and lavender. She left her hair out of her braids for now, letting the cascade of gold down over her shoulders and to her waist.

"No, Your Majesty. Thankfully, all was calm on the road between Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine, despite rumors to the contrary." Evelyn bowed deeply, the others following suit to various degree.

"Then I do not understand why you were so delayed in coming to Amaranthine." Anora's posture stiffened, as did Evelyn's in response to the sudden coldness.

"I apologize, Your Majesty. I was detained by my duties as Warden-Commander back at the keep," Evelyn replied, folding her fingers in a gesture of deferment. "I would have come sooner, if not for the business of replenishing some of my numbers."

"Yes, I recall that you had already set your eyes on many of those in your company last night. I take it that the apostate you recruited now stands before me a full Grey Warden, then?" Anora glanced to Anders, who grinned awkwardly in response.

"Yup! I'm all Grey-Wardenized now. Member of the club, invited to all the parties, and all that," he joked lightly.

To no avail, it seemed, when her eyes darkened in response. "And you bring another interesting guest along with you as well. Hello, Nathaniel. It has been many years since last we spoke. Your stay in the Free Marches ended recently, did it not?"

"It did," he confirmed, bowing faintly to her acknowledgement of his presence. "I see a great many things have changed in my absence. I was not expecting much of what I learned upon my return to Ferelden. Please forgive me if I seem out of sorts."

"I am surprised you are keeping company with a Howe, of all people, Commander, especially given how things resolved between you and his father." She kept her tone even, but not even the skillfully well-possessed Anora could keep the contempt she had for the weasely man out of her voice.

"That is among the reasons for my being out of sorts, indeed," Nathaniel added before Evelyn could reply. He was not pleased to hear even the queen herself showing disdain for his father. Clearly, the heroes had great influence over history, to be sure.

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, you know as well as I that we are not all merely the product of our parentage- we are defined by our own choices. I believe that Nathaniel has great potential within the Grey Wardens, and I will not hang his father's deeds around his shoulders." Evelyn smiled as charmingly as she could while mildly miffed at the queen turning her nose up at her new recruit.

"Indeed," Anora agreed, though clearly more out of obligation than any other factor. "So, I see you bring your newest recruits, but my father is rather conspicuously absent from your company."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Evelyn nodded. "While you were gracious enough to grant me an audience, my duty as Warden-Commander had to be tended to in my absence. I could think of no better than Loghain to fill that role while I reported to you, my queen."

"I happen to agree that my father is best equipped to handle the affairs of your office, Commander." Anora's faint smile as she spoke indicated she was well aware of her slight towards Evelyn.

Alistair scowled. "Oh yes, his leadership skills were aptly demonstrated when he was Regent! Allied with Arl Howe, letting his daughter be held prisoner- only to be rescued by the very people he detested most, splitting the Bannorn into outright civil war-"

"_Enough_, Alistair!" Evelyn scolded, her eyes narrowing on him. "You speak of the man I have almost as much confidence in as I do you, and the queen's own father! "

If Anora had been rattled by Alistair's outburst, it only showed in the faint lines deepening at the corners of her mouth. "I would advise you to listen to your Commander, Alistair. Your obvious distaste for my father, most evidently established when you called for his head, is not welcome in my presence."

"I- Yes, Your Majesty." His lips pursed as his ultimate weapon- his Kicked Puppy face- manifested. He clearly wanted to say more, especially in defense of his beloved, but knew better than to contend with these two powerful women now glaring at him.

"At any rate, I do apologize for my tardiness in my audience with you, Your Majesty. I have had my hands kept full, between restoring Vigil's Keep to livable condition and adding to my extremely thinned-out ranks- both directly a result of the disaster that occurred last night- and was able to break away as of an hour ago, when I immediately set out for Amaranthine." Evelyn bowed deeply. "For all of my diligence, I have offended my queen. Forgive me, Your Majesty."

"Burden yourself not with worry over such a minor offense, Commander. You are present now, and that is all that matters," Anora dismissed, though she was clearly pleased with Evelyn's deference. "I am most eager to hear your report regarding your efforts at Soldier's Peak and in Highever, as well as your plans for dealing with the remaining Darkspawn still plaguing my kingdom."

"Ah yes, all of the _boring_ details of the last several months," Alistair muttered quietly, though not quite inaudibly. Evelyn's mouth twitched in amusement, but Anora was considerably less amused.

"If you don't mind, Commander, I would prefer your account alone. The words of your Second-in-Command are likely to be riddled with disrespect, and I sincerely doubt he will take the task seriously enough." Her eyes sharpened on Alistair. "He and your new recruits are dismissed for the time being."

"Alistair, take the others into town," Evelyn ordered, keeping her eyes on Anora.

"But-"

"_We will speak later_."

"...Yes, _Commander_." He saluted her stiffly, then stalked back out into the Chantry.

"I guess that's... our cue to leave, too?" Anders ventured warily, even as Nathaniel silently followed Alistair's example. "Okay then; best of luck, Lynnie!"

Anders didn't even bother waiting for Evelyn to turn her increasingly icy stare on him before scurrying after the others, his robes fluttering behind him as he moved. Evelyn sighed, putting her hand over her temple; her exhaustion was getting to her. She suspected that when her business with the queen concluded, she would be finding the nearest bed and passing out for a week.

Anora settled onto a seat by her vanity, her hands folded primly on her knees, her hair draping over her shoulders. She tilted her head faintly as she watched Evelyn seat herself in a nearby chair, considerably less elegant than the queen's.

"...'Lynnie'?" She inquired with a smirk.

"That is a long story, Your Majesty, and not one included in my report, I'm afraid," Evelyn grinned uneasily. Without Alistair there to give her support, the old anxiety that always sprouted in socially delicate situations began churning in Evelyn's stomach again. She could handle a thousand darkspawn charging at her any day of the week, but the cold stare of a woman whose influence could ruin her in an instant gave her pause.

As she began her report in earnest, she felt her heart clench to recall the hurt look in Alistair's eyes as she dismissed him as his Commander, not his Beloved.

-xxx-

"That frigid _bitch_!" The door into The Crown and Lion inn slammed against the wall it was embedded in as a particularly furious Alistair stormed in from the street.

"Which one?" Nathaniel asked dryly.

"The _queen_, I-" Freezing in his tracks, he rounded on Nathaniel faster than even the quick rogue could see, lifted him by the collar, and pinned him to the wall. "Don't you _ever_ insult our Commander in my presence, or so help me, I'll-"

"Hey, Templar-Boy, put Daddy's Little Mistake back on the floor and try to calm down-"

Anders didn't get to finish his sentence before both men turned their glares on him. He put up his hands in defense to try and ward their anger, to no avail. Alistair grunted and let go of Nathaniel, leaning over the mage with a hard-earned Death Glare.

"By the Maker, if you say one more word- _one more word_- I'm going to have you stripped down to your smallclothes and running laps around the city while chanting '_I am an apostate, free as the breeze against my nethers!_'" Alistair jutted his finger in Anders' face. "Just _try_ and test my patience _one more time_!"

"You threaten that like I haven't done the exact same thing after a few good stiff drinks!" Anders retorted, grinning defensively.

A flash of astonishment at being subverted so quickly crossed Alistair's features, before they darkened. "Oh! I can see that there's no low I can sink to that will challenge your basal experiences. With such an outstanding moral fiber, I can't imagine why Evelyn turned _you_ down in favor of Cullen!"

All mirth vanished from Anders' face, Alistair's words striking a sore wound so freshly reopened. Rage enveloping him, he snarled at Alistair, "At least I'm not sloppy seconds to some brainwashed simpleton!"

That did it. Alistair drew back his fist to punch the mage into oblivion, but before he could follow through, the mage had ducked from the blow, popping up on the other side of his arm.

"Hey! I bet you she never told you about the time she asked me- no, _begged_ me to kiss her!" Anders spat, his grin twisting cruelly. "Did she lean into you, the first time? Soften her lips? Moan with her-"

"_You __**SHUT UP**__!_" Alistair cried, bending his arm and cracking his elbow across Anders' face with all the force he could muster. As the mage sprawled to the floor, Alistair loomed over him, his face dark.

"Wha-What're you gonna do, _kill_ me?" Anders stammered, trying to reorient the world after it was sent spinning from the blow. He put his hand to his face- the metal of the senior warden's armor had concussed him badly, but for now, the blood was yet to flow. "I just bet Lynnie will be thrilled with you then!"

"The both of you are fools!" Nathaniel interjected with a sneer. "Look at you! Behaving like two young bucks butting heads over a doe! Despite her wide eyes, Amell is no doe to be won! You should be ashamed of yourselves!" He gestured to the patrons of the inn, now staring in shock and terror at the Wardens. "See how you represent her to the people!"

"Like I care what those idiots think!" Anders growled.

Nathaniel's words had a very different impact on Alistair, who froze once again in realization. He looked to the patrons, then down at the man he suspected, much to his own horror, he'd been a hair short of throttling to death. His jealousy, his frustration, and his hurt at being turned out by Evelyn... he'd let that stew boil over, and what a mess it made.

"Evidently, Ser Mage, you do not think at all." At this, Nathaniel's voice lowered in fury. "You care nothing for your friend to humiliate her so, using your past with her to inflict pain on her lover. If she were present, how badly would you have hurt her with such words?"

Standing again, Anders regarded the dark-haired man with suspicion and dawning dread. He grumbled, "Templar-Boy started it. I mean, technically, _you_ did, by inadvertently calling Lynnie a bitch."

Nathaniel shrugged. "And I stand by my insinuation. That does not change her role as our Commander nor your role as her friend."

Alistair eyed Nathaniel strangely. "You know, you're infuriating. The _both_ of you are."

"A trait we all share, evidently."

Alistair sighed out the last vestiges of his rage, grateful for control of his senses coming back to him. No matter how frustrated Anora- and her blasted _father_- made him, he shouldn't have let some snarky, half-brained apostate get the better of him like that. No matter what he said, he had to set the example for the other two.

Still, one thought refused to release him, as he ventured into the main room with a sheepish grin. He remembered the very first time he and Evelyn had kissed; never in his life before then had he been so happy, and the memory was among his most treasured. She'd leaned in, let her mouth melt into his, tilted her head to meet the force when he'd pressed hungrily once he'd known it was real...

That Anders had known exactly how to describe it plunged his heart through his chest. Had he told the truth? Did he know the taste of Evelyn's lips? As he paused at the bar, he shot a glance in the mage's direction. The moment he caught the apprehensive hint to Alistair's glance, Anders grinned, and licked his upper lip thoughtfully.

The wood of the bar creaked as Alistair's grip on the edge tightened, and tightened...


	11. Chapter 11: Beneath The Surface

For What Binds Us  
_Chapter Eleven: Beneath The Surface_

In the daylight, the ravaging of the keep seemed less extensive. Without the shadows of nighttime casting all in a sinister light, and with the extensive efforts to clean the carnage that had been smeared throughout the keep, the cold stone had taken on some warmth, some life again. Many of the survivors now milled about freely, grateful for the release from their terror and for the sun on their faces. Others had trickled in from the roads, having been on their way either by request of the Warden-Commander or by virtue of interest in starting business in the new home of the Grey Wardens.

As Loghain stalked away from the gate that had been brutalized by the ogre the night before, having inspected the damage, ordered repairs, and signed paperwork to get the project started- he grumbled about the cost of the repairs, but reasoned that Evelyn would agree that fortifying the keep against further attack was more important than preserving their stores of sovereigns- he passed by some oddly familiar merchants setting up stalls. After a moment of staring, trying to recall where he'd seen the duo before (much to their obvious discomfort), he flashed on the name, "Wade's Emporium", and nodded his acknowledgement.

He turned to head back inside the main keep itself, only to stagger to avoid walking straight into the woman he was slowly dubbing in his head 'My Redheaded Shadow".

"There you are!" Siobhan exclaimed, her hands going to her hips in reprimand.

"And there I go, Arlessa; please excuse me." Loghain nodded to her, hoping that she wouldn't have the chance to rope him into whatever conversation she was clearly determined to have.

"Now wait a moment, Loghain!" Before he could escape her, her arms slid around his elbow, catching him and holding him fast. Mind you, he could have easily kept going and simply dragged the arlessa along behind him, but the propriety of such a thing was dubious at best.

He looked back to her, with every exasperation written in his expression. "Siobhan, I am once again plagued by duty. I have a host of projects that need to be addressed in a timely manner, particularly as we are expecting nobility to arrive within a day's time to greet their new 'Arlessa' in Evelyn. You know as well as I do that if we are not up to standard by then, such an affair will have disastrous consequences for Evelyn. I suspect you do not wish this for your friend, so can you. _Please_. Leave me to my job?"

Siobhan sighed, recognizing the truth of Loghain's words; if the keep weren't clean enough for the nobility of the region, they would condemn Evelyn and maneuver to claim the arling from under her. Such was the nature of politics, as both she and Loghain- who endured as a Teyrn in such a court for longer than she'd been alive- knew well.

"Yes, Loghain, I will do so." She brightened. "I only wished to let you know that I have received word from Gwaren."

"How unusual, to be contacted by your sister."

"Well, she's not normally so chatty, this is true." If Siobhan caught his sarcasm, she blatantly ignored it. "Normally, I know that this wouldn't interest you, but it does actually involve you this time."

"Even more remarkable; your sister has mentioned _me_ in one of her letters to you."

"Oh, I know, right?" Her eyes glinted with mischief. "She does make a habit of harassing _me_ about you when you aren't replying to her correspondence. Strange, isn't it?" She pulled out a parchment from the collar of her gown, surprising Loghain at where she'd stored it. "Anyway, she asks after Evelyn, having heard that she and Alistair were in Highever. Apparently, she's curious as to why I wasn't with them, and if they brought any word from Fergus."

"I can see how this is urgent to tell me, yes." Loghain crossed his arms, leaning to one foot impatiently.

"Yes, yes, I'm _getting_ to it. Just be patient!" Siobhan scanned the letter, grinning. "Okay, alright. So, after inquiring after my health and wellbeing, the various would-be suitors in both of our lives, and if I remembered to take Mother's shield from Highever from my last visit, she asked after you again."

Loghain grunted.

"I know, but this time, it was because I mentioned in my last letter to _her_ that we were all on our way to Vigil's Keep. It seems that she has sent you several letters both about her business with your former Teyrnir as well as personal inquiries, wanting to keep in touch after your experiences together during the Blight."

At this, Loghain's eyes flickered, apprehensive. "I have received her letters, but as I assure you and everyone else in all of Thedas, I have been _busy_. There is much that falls to me, and taking time to write instructions to a woman who is fully capable of running a terynir on her own does not fall high on my list of priorities."

"I understand that, Loghain, and that's why I'm here!" She beamed broadly. "Since you don't have the time to do this, I'm going to help you! After all, I'm certain Rhia would just like some acknowledgement that you have, at least, received her letters. So, just tell me what you would like to have passed on to my dear sister, and I'll write it down for you!"

"I shudder to think what you might improvise in my name, Arlessa." Loghain growled.

"No improvisation, no creativity- she'd never believe me if I injected anything 'creative' into whatever I send in your name. I just want her to be happy and to relieve you of one of your many tasks." Siobhan pouted. "But I don't want to outright lie, so tell me what you want her to hear!"

Loghain rolled his gaze up to the sky, pleading internally for the Maker to spare him. Finally, he sighed, and shot Siobhan a stern look. "Very well. Tell her that I am well, that I appreciate her concern over my affairs, but that they are well under control. Tell her that Gwaren seems to be just fine under her guidance, that every report I've seen has shown major improvements, especially in recovery from the Blight. That I am glad that my Teyrnir is in her capable hands."

Siobhan's eyes nearly sparkled with her delight. "Do you really mean all of that?"

Loghain grunted. "Do you really believe I would lie? Your sister desires, as you put it, acknowledgement for her work. And what I said is the truth; she does an excellent job as Teyrna in my absence."

"She will be glad to hear so," Siobhan conceded with a shrug. "But don't you think she might want to hear something else from you? Something more... personal?"

"I do not believe your sister to seek sentiment over a practical assessment," Loghain replied with a raised eyebrow. "I've found that to be more _your_ purview, speaking plainly. Now, unless you have more reason to pester me while I'm exceedingly busy...?"

"Ser, if you have a moment?" A woman who carried herself with discipline and serious intent approached Loghain, bowing faintly in respect. Glancing back up at a mildly irritated Siobhan, she straightened. "Oh, My Lady! I am sorry, I did not mean to interrupt."

Siobhan pouted, then broke into the dazzling smile the Couslands were so well known for. "You weren't interrupting. I was actually about to depart; so if you have business with Loghain, please, _please_ let him know. In excruciating detail."

As Siobhan turned on her heel and glided off back towards the main hall of the Keep, Loghain sent her one last glower. Finally, he put his attention to the woman who had approached, recognizing her as Sergeant Maverlies on closer look.

"I, uh... I don't mean to alarm you, Ser, but it's possible there are still darkspawn in the Vigil." The woman caught the sharp look that crossed his features, and quickly explained, "You recall those explosions during the siege last night, no? Some of the deep cellars caved in. I suspect there may be pockets of darkspawn below, trapped."

"There _may_ be pockets of darkspawn still within the grounds of the keep?" Loghain demanded, his full attention on the sergeant. Then, the deeper implication of her words struck him hard enough to force him a pace backwards. The attack from the night before... the only accounts they could get out of survivors was how the darkspawn seemed to come out of the very darkness, with no visible sign of entry. He glanced towards the broken gate; the ogre had broken it down _from the inside_.

He snapped his attention to the nearest guard, flagging him down immediately. "You! Gather the rest of the guards around the keep, and have them posted at every door that leads to a cellar in the keep, on my orders!"

The guard saluted."Y-yes, Ser! Any other instructions?"

"Just do it, and quickly!" Loghain turned back on a rather confused Maverlies, and scowled. "If they are trapped underneath us, it's only a matter of time before those bastards dig their way back to the surface- like they did _last night_!"

-xxx-

The day had passed rather peacefully for Oghren. Well, peacefully by the standards _he_ was accustomed to. No one harassed him, no one nagged at him, he even got to sample many of the wines held in the specially crafted cellar. He scoffed at the wine rack- the selection was pitiful, fancy surfacer stuff brewed for a weak constitution. Still, it was cleaner, and tasted sweeter than he was used to. He couldn't get drunk off the stuff, but it'd do in a pinch.

After exploring the grounds, scandalizing the poor servants tending to the affairs of the keep with a leer or a cackle, he headed to check out the Pipsqueak's new office. She'd left the door unlocked, and she'd never expressly _forbid_ him from going in, either. Besides, he was curious to see what all she'd had sent there. So, with a quick glance down the hallway, Oghren entered Evelyn's office.

Immediately, the orderliness of the room struck him. He grinned. "Well, of course Pipsqueak's personal room is clean as a whistle."

He didn't even bother looking at the books- he didn't need to examine the bookshelves to know that the lass was big on reading- and the lyrium displays reminded him too much of Orzammar to keep his interest long. What held his attention was the display of tokens, trinkets, and gifts sent to the Hero of Ferelden. Shiny, perhaps, but even more so, he couldn't remember a time he'd seen someone so celebrated by their people.

Even at his peak, Oghren had only seen a handful of ceremonies, maybe some decoration, and the honoring of his ancestors. Evelyn, on the other hand, had the gratitude of nobility and the lowest commoners alike. They'd sent her lockets, or coin, or heirlooms, and she very carefully and proudly displayed them. His eyes roamed over these gifts, sorrow seeping in underneath his pride for his new Commander.

"The tiny lass always did have a soft-spot for sentiment," he muttered to himself, his fingers brushing over an engraved necklace, a bracelet, a set of rings, before withdrawing. It was then that something glimmered in the corner of his eye.

Sitting on the shelf, right beside her literature on dwarven culture, was the bottle of ale he'd given her during their long march to Denerim. The lass had been out of her mind with terror at what awaited her, and he'd wanted to help her to calm down. She'd declined, at first.

"No, Oghren, I really can't," She'd insisted. "I have to keep my head clear."

"Yer goin' to bed for the evening, and I've seen how you try to sleep lately. Nothing's helping you. This'll knock you right out, and help you get plenty of rest!" He'd replied with a grin.

After a moment of regarding him uncertainly, she'd smirked. "And wake up with a massive headache and a churning stomach... but I suppose that _is_ my default as of late, anyway. Very well; worth the risk, I say."

Her fingers had curled around the bottle, and he never asked for it back, preferring to see her have one bit of fun in the sea of frustration and demands being put on her. As he peered closer now, he realized that he hadn't thought twice about that brew, but she'd held onto it all this time. Empty, now. Whether she finished the bottle, or emptied it and simply held onto it, he couldn't tell.

Before he realized it, he was sniffing. Here, among the gifts and treasures, among her robes and armor, among her precious books, she counted his bottle as important enough to display. She stuck up for him time and again, even when the others mocked him, even when he mocked himself. She'd taught him the strength of his grip again around an axe, the backbone of a fighter (even if she fell short of being a warrior herself), brought him back to his feet and gave him a chance to be great again.

She'd even gone out of her way to help him find Felsi, the only girl he'd seen himself going for after Branka. She had encouraged him to find his own way, called him a friend. Was it really any surprise that when things slowed down far too much for his liking again, he went to the one person he knew could put him back in the front lines?

Damn this stupid surfacer air. It was too dry, making his eyes water. He gave one last long sniff, turning it into a snort, and glanced around the rest of the office. Now, though, a big chunk of the curiosity had waned, and he felt all the more like he'd been intruding. He hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

He'd have to find a way to show his appreciation to Evelyn that she'd let him join her Grey Wardens. After a few rounds of ale.

-xxx-

For just the moment, a brief moment, Evelyn was free.

Standing in front of the Chantry doors, the sun warming her face, the breeze tugging her curls to the west, her eyes closed as she basked in just this moment of freedom, she smiled. She wasn't the Warden-Commander of the skies, or the Grey Warden of the Chantry, or anything but herself. Evelyn Amell, former tower mage, was floating on this suspended moment, frozen in time. Her responsibilities waited for her when she landed, when she returned, but for now, she relived the joy she'd felt when Duncan had lead her from Kinloch Hold long over a year ago.

A gust of wind brought her back to the present, her feet sensing the ground beneath them, the weight of her bladed staff against her back and the armor draped around her. She sighed, still contented that for now, she had space. Her report to Anora had been well-received, and she'd even been lauded for her recruitment efforts. The news of her engagement had raised an eyebrow, but Anora hadn't disapproved of the match. Her only stipulation had been that Evelyn not let it distract her from her duties.

She descended down the staircase, watching the street below for any sign of her men. The city itself was bustling, wrapped in its own importance, with merchants just around the way calling out to passers-by about their wares. Chickens clucked, and when she reached the bottom of the staircase, she heard the distant meowing of a small cat. Glancing around, she realized she didn't have any idea where anything was in this city; she'd never been this far in before, only having skirted the place while passing by.

"Where would they have run off to?" She wondered, crossing her arms. She'd half-expected them to have been standing right outside the chantry, waiting for her. Alistair wasn't known for straying very far from her side, especially when he was upset with her. She smirked at the oddness of such behavior, but understood it perfectly; like herself, if there was an argument between them, he wanted to resolve it as soon as possible.

Nearby... what was nearby? Her eyes immediately fell on the sign pointing out the Crown and Lion inn, which was placed only yards from where she stood now. She nearly laughed at herself; what a perfect spot for the three men to wait for her. Not so far as to raise Alistair's anxiety about her, but a place equipped with drink and a place to sit. She strolled over; even if they weren't inside, it was as good a place to start as any.

The moment she set foot inside, however, she was greeted by a young man who'd been wandering near the entrance. He swayed a bit on his feet to recognize her, his eyes widening. "Heeey! Look! It's that woman who's the Hero of Ferelden!"

"No she's not!" His friend chimed in pessimistically. "She's too small. You're just too drunk to see properly!"

"Yes she is! L-lookit her, I done seen her when she was helpin' out me family in Denerim after the darkspawn left! Hello, Hero of Ferelden!" He waved hugely towards her.

She grinned, flattered but unnerved by the attention. Whatever perks there were to being well-known, they were far outweighed by having attention drawn to her all the more easily. "Ah- hello, Ser. Thank you. And there's no need to address me so formally; you can call me Evelyn."

"You hear that!?" The first man called to his friend. "She wants me to call her Evelyn! She's a good'un, jus' like I said!"

The commotion drew the attention of the trio of Grey Wardens gathered at the bar. While Alistair smiled faintly, unsure if she was still unhappy with him, Anders brightened and started towards her with a wave.

"Hey, Lynnie! So, is the queen still human? Does she have kitty ears yet?" He went to wrap her in a hug, but was immediately stopped by her hand to his chest, keeping him at arm's length with a sharp look.

"Anora yet retains her resplendent human shape, Anders. And she better _not_ be sprouting any kitty ears, or you're going to have a _lot_ to answer for." With that, she dropped her arm and proceeded towards Alistair and Nathaniel.

"That certainly did not take you very long at all," Nathaniel remarked, leaning back against the bar with a smirk. "Was there not much to report?"

"Oh, there was plenty." Evelyn grinned. "I'm just very good at being concise and well-organized."

Alistair shifted uncomfortably. "Evelyn, I... want to apologize for..."

Evelyn's gaze fell on him, and he found himself unable to finish even his apology at the sadness in her eyes. "Alistair, I'm not entirely sure you're apologizing for the right reasons. But this is not the place to have this discussion. We'll chat when we're back at Vigil's Keep."

"Yeah, Alistair, you need to learn some _decorum_!" Anders scolded, coming up beside Evelyn.

Darkness stirred the golden color of Alistair's eyes, and his jaw clenched as he fought to keep the deliberate provocation from working. Catching the mood shift, Evelyn glanced between both men, and maneuvered herself between them. She'd seen that look in Alistair's eyes before, and it hadn't ended well.

"Let's find something else to do in town. I am eager to see the rest of the city, to know what we will be residing nearby," she suggested amicably. "In fact, I would like to see the markets in particular; I'd like to replenish some supplies. What do you say, boys?"

"I say that you will likely find plenty to bargain with in the merchant square, and not all of it will be the wares you seek." Nathaniel shrugged. "I would recommend keeping an eye on your pouches."

"That's not a bad idea, Nathaniel. Thank you," Evelyn smiled to him sincerely. "Do you have any recommendations for places to visit while we're in town? You are, after all, much more familiar with the city than I am."

"I certainly am." He smirked. "I suppose that once we're done with the merchants, I might have a few suggestions in mind."

"Excellent! I think we are long overdue for some down time. I think we're a bit on edge, especially after the events of last night. So if any of you have suggestions for something fun to do, let me know. Today, it's on me!" Evelyn clapped her hands together, beaming. Despite her exhaustion, she genuinely looked forward to having a short tour of the city. She needed the break, the freedom to stroll through a city with no other obligations tying her to her post as Commander.

Unfortunately for her lofty ambitions for the afternoon, little did she know, her general was on his way to Amaranthine with dark tidings at his heels.


End file.
